Apocalyptic Daria: Scarlett's Tale
by Doggieboy80
Summary: One of Daria's classmates from Lawndale was at home when Black Saturday occurred. This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: _Daria_ and all of its characters are property of MTV/Viacom. This is fanfiction and no money was exchanged for this story. It is non-profit and written for fun.

For those who do not know, the character of Scarlett is commonly known as the Ankh Girl, who started at Lawndale High School the same day that Daria did. For more information on her, check out the story _Scarlett_ by The Angst Guy or the entry on her in DariaWiki.

This is a story that takes place in the same universe as _Apocalyptic Daria,_ but told from the point of view of Scarlett, who happened to be home in Lawndale when the world fell apart.

**Apocalyptic Daria:**

**Scarlett's Tale**

by

Doggieboy80

**1. The Beginning...**

The end of the world began at 11:03 a.m. on a cool, crisp sunny Saturday morning in April...

**oooooooooo**

She woke up when her alarm went off at 9:30. Almost instantly, she sat up, shut off the alarm and stretched loudly. Her normally long and straight red hair was awry on her head and she blinked repeatedly as sleep left her. She yawned and glanced at the blank spot on top of her dresser. "Just a dream," she muttered. "A really beautiful dream." She smiled as she thought of the talking mouse named Roger.

Her name was Scarlett Hawkins and she was a seventeen-year-old junior at Lawndale High School, located in the suburbs of Baltimore, Maryland. The truth be told, she preferred her old home outside of Warren, Indiana, but minor children usually have little say in where a family lives.

Dressed in her normal (for the Spring, that is) flannel pajamas and white socks, she got up, stretched again and put on her ankh necklace. Then she plodded downstairs to find a simple handwritten note on the breakfast table:

_Scarlett,_

_Your father and I will be in Philadelphia_

_for the day. Do the whites and towels and_

_WASH THE DISHES!!!_

_We'll be back around seven._

_No visitors, young lady!_

_Thank you._

_Love, Mom_

Scarlett smiled as she read the note. She knew exactly where they were right then: Stuck on I-95 just outside of Philadelphia International Airport, where her dad was doing a slow steam over the amount of traffic he had to deal with. Her mother was doing her best to keep his temper from boiling over.

How she knew that was something Scarlett never told people about - even her best friend Kristy Barton. Her dad knew, but that was because her dad was also something of a sensitive...just nowhere near her league. But ever since she went through puberty, she could "sense" things about people - things they never told others about even.

For instance, she somehow knew that the next door neighbor - 48-year-old John Fleming - had seen her naked once, and that he liked what he had seen. She didn't know _how_ he saw her that way. She just knew it had happened. The man himself was extremely polite and regularly hired her to do yard work. He never mentioned it to her or anyone else. In fact, he never said or did anything out of the way _to her_. He didn't even stare at her.

All the same, that creeped her out. But then, her dad did warn her that the biggest problem with being a sensitive was that it "limited friends." When you can see what jerks most people were under the veneer they presented to others, it put you off, to say the least.

At the same time, it was an effective weapon in dealing with crooked salesmen.

"I guess I'd better wash the dishes," she finally said. "I've put it off for two days now."

She filled the kitchen sink with hot water and put in every used piece of silverware she could find, followed by the drinking glasses and coffee cups. As she did this, she ate two pieces of toast smeared in apricot preserves, accompanied by a tall glass of chocolate milk; in her opinion, that was the breakfast worthy of a queen. Or at least a spoiled princess.

After she ate her food, she moved to the utility room and started on the laundry. As the washing machine filled up, she turned on the radio to hear "Rock & Roll" Randy play the top 20 songs. "Hmmm," she said as she heard his voice. "I didn't know you were on Saturdays, too."

**oooooooooo**

10:25 a.m.

Scarlett set a stack of dirty plates into the dishwater gently, allowing the still soapy water to cover them up. As they soaked, she waited until the washing machine finished its final spin cycle. Then she quietly loaded the dryer and turned it on. "I think I'll wait until after I take a shower to do the towels," she said to herself and walked to the bathroom.

**oooooooooo**

10:47 a.m.

Her hair moist, but not soaked (she had washed it the night before), Scarlett walked back into the kitchen and began to wash the dinner plates. Usually when she washed dishes, she replayed conversations in her mind...or played ones she wished _would_ happen. Like if that cute senior would look her way and ask her out. Or if Kristy would introduce her to a cousin who happened to be a hot actor from _The O.C_. or _Smallville_.

That thought made her laugh.

**oooooooooo**

11:02 a.m.

The washing machine had just started its rinse cycle and Scarlett set the next stack of plates in the sink, then rinsed the suds off of her hands. As she dried her hands off, she dropped the towel on the floor. "Crap!" she muttered and saw the digital clock change to 11:03.

She bent down and grabbed the towel.

Suddenly a white light instantly enveloped everything and vanished almost as fast as it appeared. She stood back up and asked herself, "What the hell was that?"

She looked out the window and searched for the source of the light. _Did Mr. Fleming just take a picture of me_? she wondered and shook her head. For a second, she thought that the light was unusually warm, but dismissed it.

It dawned on her that the radio was only putting out static then and she idly wondered what had happened to "Rock & Roll" Randy.

When she walked to the utility room, however, Scarlett realized that the washing machine had stopped. "Oh, come on, now!"

She stopped and stood still, suddenly aware that _something _had just happened. A chill swept through her and she shook.

_Dad...Mom...I need you._

Scarlett didn't know how much time passed before she walked to the living room, sat on the couch and grabbed the remote control. She pressed the power button, but nothing happened. She pressed the button several more times and stared dumbly at the darkened television screen.

Then she heard the thunder and noise. At first it sounded like the thunder she heard back in Indiana during bad storms, but when the house shook and she was tossed off the couch, she realized that it wasn't thunder. It took her several seconds to realize that what she also heard was her own screams. She stopped screaming, but the sound got louder.

The bay window to the left of the TV cracked and she screamed again.

"Omigod!" She got to her feet and ran to the kitchen and looked out the window over the sink. The noise continued to grow.

The entire sky to the southwest was black, as if the earth itself was rising up into the air. "Oh, God! Oh, God!" _It's a bomb! Washington just got nuked!_

Scarlett stared out the window in shock and finally ran to the living room. She grabbed the cellular phone, opened it and pressed the talk button.

Nothing happened.

Tears ran from the redhead's eyes as she whimpered, "Dad? Mom?"

She sat on her father's blue recliner, drew her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. Slowly she rocked the chair and cried.

(To be continued...)


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Things Get Worse**

As the minutes wore on, Scarlett became more aware of other unusual noises. Multiple car alarms and horns could be heard, screams and curses seemed to come from all around the neighborhood, and emergency vehicle sirens blared from several different locations at once. On top of that, Lawndale's air raid siren blared into life. It was an old relic from the Cold war, but it apparently still worked, it's lonely wail a redundant, yet terrifying, signal of danger. All these noises joined the continuous roar and ground shocks from the Washington explosion and added to the chaos.

_Dad...Mom...please come back. I'm all alone here. I need you. Please._

The girl covered her ears and closed her eyes in an effort to shut all the noise out.

It didn't work.

She finally gave up, stood and walked back towards the kitchen. She saw that a painting her mother had bought the previous fall had fallen. It hung just outside the bathroom and depicted the late actor Red Skelton wearing clown makeup. She picked up the painting and propped it against the wall.

Then she looked at the dining room table, swallowed hard, and walked into the kitchen. She sniffled as she looked out the window over the sink towards the southwest. The entire sky in that direction was black, but the rolling darkness was laced by fingers of orange, yellow, purple and blood red. It was also occasionally streaked by white bursts of lightning.

_It's as if the gates of Hell itself has opened up, _she thought and grimaced.

Then a second flash enveloped everything in near-total whiteness; Scarlett felt a single, terrified and brief scream in her mind. She brought her hands up to her head and screamed herself. Then she dropped to her knees, bent over and let out a single loud wail.

"DAD!" She screamed again. "DAD! MOM! Oh, God! No! No!" Then she fell onto her right side on the linoleum and bawled loudly.

After more than a few minutes of crying, the redhead teen sat up and got to her feet. She stood unsteadily and her face was tear-streaked. She walked to the front room and looked out the cracked bay window once again. The northeast sky was decorated by a black and red mushroom cloud; the top grew slowly, yet steadily.

Scarlett stumbled back to the blue recliner and fell back into it. _What do I do now? Dad, I need you more than ever now. What do I do?_

She heard noises outside and rushed to the side of the bay window. Carefully, she peeked through the side of the thick blue curtain. Two older teen boys stopped in front of the house.

"What about here?" one of them asked. "Their van's gone."

"No," the other said. "The Lindner's has that new Mercedes. We'll see if we can get that and whatever good stuff they have in the house."

The teen paled, shook, and shrank back slightly. The second one to speak was only interested in what he could steal. She could read that much clearly on him. The first one, however, was angry. The anger itself seemed to boil over into a barely suppressed rage. He wanted revenge, but from what she could tell, it was against almost anyone he could get his hands on.

She recognized them both from Lawndale High. They were seniors when she first transferred to LHS. One had been permanently expelled by Ms. Li not too long after that and the other barely graduated. Both were troublemakers and were constantly involved in brushes with the local police.

"That snotty little redhead named Scarlett lives here," the first boy, who she knew only as Tim, said. "I'd like to beat that snottiness right out of her. Stuck-up little bitch thought she was too good for guys like me."

_I've never talked to you before, _she thought, _or about you. I don't even know you and you don't know me. What have I done to you? Why do you hate me so?_

"Forget her," the second said. "That Griffin chick down the street is a lot snottier - and hotter - than her. If we got time, we'll see about getting _her. _Or her mother. Besides, we need to get the hell out of Lawndale before that shit from Washington gets here."

They walked off then and Scarlett relaxed. She looked across the street and saw a small dog run around in circles briefly, apparently blind. _Oh, my God, it must have looked at the flash when it happened._

She thought about what the one boy said about leaving Lawndale, and tried to think about what she needed to do. For several seconds, she shook as she thought, then ran to the radio near the washing machine. The sounds of static still came from it and she adjusted the tuner quickly up and down the dial. She couldn't find any FM stations, and tried several more times.

"Slow down, Scarlett," she told herself in a shaky voice and moved the tuner slower this time. "Be calm." In spite of this, she felt as if her heart pounded in her chest and sobbed as she thought once again about her parents.

After a few minutes, she found no FM stations she could pick up and switched to the AM dial. She slowly moved the tuner to as low as it would go, then back up. When she reached somewhere near 600 on the dial, a faint voice came in.

"...a nuclear attack at this time. Take appropriate cover in a bomb shelter or fallout shelter in your community. Listen to this station for continuing updates as we get th---"

The power died then and Scarlett looked at the radio for several seconds before she set it on top of the washing machine.

Then the second shock wave hit and she screamed as the window on the utility room's back door shattered. She also lost her balance and fell on her butt. The radio fell off the washing machine and she rolled to her left, barely avoiding being hit by it.

Something upstairs fell with a loud crash and she cried out in shock.

As the shock subsided, she got back to her feet and moved slowly back into the kitchen. The water in the wash sink still moved slightly. She walked back into the living room, grabbed a folded up comforter from a coat closet and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"I don't know what to do," she said. "Do I leave or stay here?"

_If I leave, where do I go? What do I take? I've never thought about anything like this ever happening before. I need to get ready._

Scarlett stood up and walked upstairs to her bedroom. The curtains waved with the breeze because the window near the head of her bed had broken in several pieces. She grabbed her suitcase and held it to her chest tightly. It was solid black in color and she had found it at a rummage sale once in Decatur, Indiana, when she was twelve. She could remember clearly how much her mother didn't like it. _It's black, Scarlett, too...too gothy_. But she had bought it, anyway.

For the next minute, she rummaged through her dresser drawers and packed clothes in a haphazard fashion. When she closed and latched the full suitcase, she then remembered the whites in the dryer - which included her underwear and socks. "Crap," she muttered and took the suitcase downstairs. She set it on the floor near the couch and moved toward the kitchen again.

Then she felt a presence, stopped, and gasped. _Omigod! They're back!_

"Let's see what we can get here," she heard the boy named Tim say. "Maybe we'll get a bonus." Then there was a loud thump as an attempt was made to kick in the front door.

"Let's just use the window," the other boy said and a large rock shattered the largest portion of the bay window.

Scarlett screamed and got to her feet as the two boys came in the opening.

The boy named Tim smirked as he saw the small redhead back away from them. He stood nearly a foot taller than her and had long stringy dark hair. Then he smacked his left palm with a fist and said, "Looks like it's payday for you, bitch." He smacked his palm again. "With interest." He smacked his palm again. "Sucks to be you. Bonus for us, though."

Scarlett turned and ran.

(To be continued...)


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Saving Scarlett**

As Scarlett raced around the dining room table, Tim ran and jumped over the couch after her. He overtook her at the kitchen entrance.

"NO!" she yelled as he wrapped his arms around her. She struggled to free herself as he picked her up and pulled her back into the living room.

"Come here, you stupid cunt!" he said and threw her onto the couch. When she tried to get up, he quickly sat atop her thighs and held down her arms. He laughed as she struggled against him.

"We don't have time for this, man!" the other boy said loudly and looked around several times. He was also tall and skinny, but his head was shaved bald. "We've got to get out of Lawndale, now! We'll take her with us and screw her later."

"NO!" Scarlett yelled and swung her head. "Let me go!"

"Shut up!" Tim yelled and slapped her face hard. Then he slapped her again and she started crying again. "You just shut the hell up!" Then to the other boy, he said, "I'm doing her right now, Carl! So you just shut up, too. While I'm busy with her, you search the house for stuff we can use."

"Don't do this to me!" she begged and cried some more. "Please." Then she bawled and shook her head.

Tim balled his right hand into a fist and drew it back. "I told you to shut up, bitch! Now, I'm gonna hurt you bad."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a new voice said from near the ruined window.

All three teens turned to look and saw a middle-aged man there, clad in navy suit pants, a short-sleeved white button-up shirt and a dark blue tie. He wore black-framed eyeglasses and his light brown hair was short cut, as if in imitation of military style haircuts. He held a dark black crowbar in his right hand.

_Mr. Fleming! _Scarlett thought. _Thank God! _"Help me!"

Tim released the girl and stood up. "Go away, old man. You're too old to see what's going to happen here."

Carl pulled a pistol out of the back of his pants and the man saw it. Before the youth could even aim or cock the weapon, the man moved forward and swung the crowbar up and back. The iron tool hit the right side of the youth's face with a loud crunching sound and he staggered back as he dropped the pistol. Then the man brought his bludgeon down on top of the bald head and the young man fell to the floor. He laid still, his face turned to his right and darkened dent on top of his head.

Scarlett stared at the fallen youth in shock.

Her neighbor then turned to Tim, smiled, and held up the crowbar. "Now, it's your turn, punk."

Tim scrambled off of Scarlett's thighs and tried to jump over the coffee table and towards the open window. The crowbar, however, connected with his left shoulder in mid-jump and a loud crunching sound could be heard.. The youth screamed in pain and fell to the carpeted floor in front of the small table. He whimpered and tried to get up as the older man moved up beside him.

"You're real tough when you're beating on a young girl," John Fleming said and kicked Tim's left hip hard with a brown polished shoe. "I bet that you think you're a tough man."

The youth fell back down and cried out in pain; his left arm shook and when he tried to move it, he cried out again.

Scarlett cowered on the couch as she watched the fight.

"Where's your tough talk _now_, punk?"

"Please...I didn't hurt her," Tim said in a whiny voice and finally managed to lift his left arm slightly. He sobbed and added, "Don't hurt me anymore."

John lifted the crowbar above his head. "You touched Scarlett," he said and smashed the boy's left elbow hard.

The youth screamed and his arm fell back to the floor. He rolled over onto his back. "Please, stop! Don't kill me!"

"She told you to let her go and you slapped her - twice." He lifted up the crowbar once again. "You had no right to touch her, you asshole." He brought the crowbar down onto Tim's head, and a spray of blood hit the carpet between them. He collapsed then and the man turned to the terrified girl. "Are you O.K., Scarlett?" he asked.

The redhead gawked at him and looked at both fallen bodies in shock.

"Scarlett! Are you O.K.?"

She jumped and looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't speak, so she nodded quickly.

"Where are your parents?" he then asked.

Scarlett then looked down and sobbed. "Phil...Philadelphia," she said, her voice weak.

"Oh, God," he muttered and moved to her right side. He touched her right shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Scarlett. I'm really sorry."

_You want to hug me, _she thought and looked at his hand on her shoulder. _But you want me to hug you first. _Instead, she covered her face with her hands and cried hard.

He patted her shoulder gently and waited for more than a minute, then cleared his throat. She looked at him and he said, "We need to leave, Scarlett. We need to get out of Lawndale as quickly as we can."

"What?" she asked, her voice suddenly high-pitched. She looked at the two bodies again, then at her neighbor.

"We can't stay here, Scarlett. The fallout from Washington will come here real soon. We've got to leave." He looked outside, his features nervous. "The longer we stay, the worse it will get."

"What do you mean 'we'?" she asked quickly, her voice cracking and her eyes wide open. "Where are you wanting to take me?"

He looked at her silently. It was obvious that he wanted to go right then, but he kept calm and took a deep breath. "There will be rescue centers and refugee camps out set up in the clear areas. There has to be." He forced a smile on his face. "I'll take you to one of them - see about getting you to one of your relatives."

"We have to leave?" she asked.

Fleming nodded. "Yes, we do. The longer we stay here, the hotter things are going to get. We need to get out of here quickly."

"What...what about Mrs. Fleming?" She blinked and wiped her eyes.

His smile widened and she fought to keep from squirming. _You want to be alone with me_, she thought, _where you hope that I'll come onto you. But you really want to help me, too._

"Lisa flew into Cleveland last night," he said. "Her sister's going through a bad custody battle and she's there for moral support. She's safe enough there." He held up his cellular phone. "It's not working right now, but hopefully it will once we get away from the Lawndale and Washington areas. Then I can call Lisa and you can call an aunt or uncle or someone in your family." He stood up and held out his right hand.

Scarlett took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She looked at the two bodies on the floor. "What - what about them?"

His face became hard and he looked at Tim's body, contempt evident in his features. "Forget 'em," he said. "Neither of us have time to help them or guard them." He sighed and said, "Right now, the cops have their hands full and we have to take care of ourselves." He moved to Carl's body and picked up the pistol. Then he looked at her. "I'll go get my car while you get your stuff together. Take clothes, any food we can use and _anything_ you particularly treasure - for instance, pictures, videos, or your diary. We may never be able to come back to Lawndale for a long time." He walked to the broken window. "Oh, and check that bald kid's pockets for any bullets. I don't have any guns _or_ bullets and we may need them." Then he stepped outside.

Scarlett shook as she knelt near the boy's body and ran her right hand down first down his right front pocket. There she found just keys. Then she searched the left front pocket and found a box of bullets. She took them and shoved them down her right front pocket.

She then rushed into the utility room. She quickly sorted through the partially dry whites in the dryer and stuffed a plastic Food Lord bag with her socks and underwear. Then she filled a small box with canned food items and bottled drinks.

An unopened jar of apricot preserves sat in front of her and she briefly stared at it before putting it with the food.

In her bedroom, Scarlett took her father's old brown gym bag and packed a photo album, several books (which included her diary) and other items she valued too much to leave behind.

Then she remembered that her folks had money "hidden" in their bedroom. She went in their room and moved to her father's feather pillow. A small pocket had been sewn on the pillow ticking and she found several folded up twenties there. She took that money, then started to walk off when she picked back up his pillow. She could smell her dad's scent on it and her chin quivered as she held it to her chest. "I'll take it," she muttered and left the room

As she walked back downstairs, John Fleming pulled his car, a four-door green Mercury Topaz, in the driveway and parked it. He rushed inside, grabbed her suitcase and smiled as he took the box of food. "Get your shoes, on, Scarlett," he said. "Then you can help me load up the car."

She blushed when she realized that she hadn't even thought of footwear. As she put on her shoes, her neighbor came back in and took the bag of whites and the gym bag outside.

When he came back in again, she stood up and said, "I'm ready...I think."

"Get some blankets and your pillow," he said. "It may get cold out there. I...I don't know what to expect with weather patterns now. I'll check for anymore food we can eat. Oh, if you have to use the restroom, do it now."

She blushed once again as she nodded and walked upstairs. _You make me nervous, but I hope your desire to help me outweighs your desire to_ have _me._

**oooooooooo**

As they stepped outside, Scarlett looked around the neighborhood. So far, the houses didn't look very different, outside of the occasional broken window. It was the cars that got her attention. Several different vehicles had wrecked - apparently after the bomb flashes. She laid the rest of what she brought in the back seat and climbed in the passenger seat.

John Fleming turned to her and said, "Keep the doors locked, and if I tell you to cover yourself up, do it. There may be a lot of bad things out there you don't need to see. It hasn't even been two hours yet and some people are already acting like animals. Trust me and I'll protect you."

Suddenly she blushed as she thought, _You mean, you love me. But you don't really know me and I'm young enough to be your daughter. You're older than my parents!_ She nodded then and said, "Thank you for helping me out, Mr. Fleming."

"John."

"What?"

"I know your folks told you to address me formally, but we're going to be together for a while and I prefer that you call me John."

"O.K." She nodded again. "Thank you, John."

He started the car and pulled out of the driveway. She looked back at the home she and her family had lived in for the previous two years. Then she looked at the blackened skies behind the property and noticed how the darkness seemed to expand by the second. _I'll never be back here again. I'm not sure anyone will ever be here again._

Scarlett grabbed the comforter from the back seat and spread it out over herself. She turned on her side and faced the window as John drove down the streets. She then closed her eyes and shook as the desire to cry overtook her.

(To be continued...)


	4. Chapter 4

**4. The Evacuation**

As John drove around stalled or wrecked cars through the neighborhood, Scarlett closed her eyes and shook as she cried.

She could hear him mess with the radio in an attempt to find a station still on the air, but all he got was static.

Then she thought about her parents and could still "hear" her dad's scream in her mind. Then she remembered how he had warned her about that once.

"_We're connected, Scarlett," Conrad Hawkins said to his daughter, then just thirteen years old._

"_What do you mean, Dad?" the redhead teen asked._

"_You know how you can tell what people are really like?"_

"_Uh-huh," she said._

"_Since we both share the same abilities, we also share a mental connection. I've noticed lately that when I'm dreaming, you're there as an observer. No matter what the dream is, you're there - at the side - somewhat bewildered. Like that dream I had of dancing and singing in my underwear."_

_The girl blushed and he laughed. "They're simply dreams, Scarlett. They're no more real than a story in a novel or comic book."_

"_Yeah, but Dad, you were in your underwear and dancing." She grimaced. "And I saw you. Eww!"_

_He laughed again, then cleared his throat. "To get serious a minute, since we're connected, there's a bad side to keep in mind."_

_She blinked. "What?"_

_He sighed and looked down briefly. "If I get injured...or worse...you'll feel what happens to me. I've seen you wince and rub your face when I nick myself shaving - and you weren't watching me, either. I just want you to be prepared in case something bad happens to me."  
_

"_Dad!"_

"_This is serious, Scarlett. When you fell in the driveway gravel two weeks ago, I felt it - and it hurt." He sighed again. "I don't know how to break the connection between us or I would." He hugged her and said again, "I just want you to be prepared."_

The teen opened her eyes and sighed. "Dad," she whispered. "What am I going to do without you?"

At most of the houses they passed, people rushed about as they loaded up vehicles with anything they could tie down. Mattresses, couches, rocking chairs and electronic items were among the items seen atop cars and trucks.

One Ford F-350 they passed had a refrigerator and freezer tied down in the back, with a couch atop it. More stuff was being loaded on and around that.

John glanced briefly at his passenger and looked back at the street. "Scarlett," he said.

She turned her head slightly, cleared her throat, and asked, "What?"

"If you want to talk, we can talk." He swallowed, slightly nervous. "If you don't want to, that's fine, too. I'm...I'm available if you need me. I know you've been through some bad stuff today and..."

"'Bad stuff'?" she interrupted him, her voice loud and breaking. "My...my parents are dead and I was attacked! I can't go back to my house ever again and I have no idea where in the hell I'm going!" She shook her head and groaned. "I wish I was dead."

"Your parents may not have been in Philly," he said quickly. "They could have just been in Wilmington or Chester."

"They're dead," she said and sobbed. She looked back out the passenger window. "I know it for certain. They're dead."

There was an awkward silence and John then asked, "Did you know those boys? I've never seen them before."

She winced as the memory of being slapped replayed itself. "I don't want to talk about them," she said quickly.

He blushed and cursed under his breath. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I will say this, though. If your parents really are dead, they would want you to live, to go on. To keep their memory alive."

_You're trying to suck up to me,_ she thought, _and you're hoping that I'll let you 'have' me_. She looked at him silently for several seconds, then asked, "Why did you come to my house today?"

John looked at her face, then back at the road. "When the Washington bomb went off, I locked up my office to come home. It was a slow day anyway. I couldn't get the Lincoln started, though, so I ran home from there with the crowbar from the office's utility room for protection."

Scarlett thought briefly and said, "That's a mile from your house!"

"I know," he replied. "There was a lot of cars dead out there - fried ignition systems, I guess. I don't really know. Probably what happened to the Lincoln. Still, even with all the stalled cars, I nearly got hit twice. A dog even tried to bite me once. Then I saw the two punks as I reached my place. I saw them go to your house and throw a rock through your window." He looked at her again. "I consider all three of you my friends and I'll be damned if I let some punks hurt any of you." A wave of anger passed through him. "When I saw that one hit you, I wanted to break him in two."

After several seconds, he added, "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you earlier. Your face is too pretty to be hit like that."

Scarlett gawked at him and her face turned beet red. _Too 'beautiful', you mean. If you knew that I can 'read' you, what would you act like then? It's probably a good thing that I can't see the images you conjure up in your mind. Just knowing what they are is bad enough._

He didn't notice her reaction and continued his rant. "As long as I'm around, no one else will ever hurt you. I promise you that." He moved his right hand towards her, stopped halfway, then pulled it back to the steering wheel.

She shuddered and turned to look back towards Washington. The blackness seemed to expand over the entire southern half of the sky. Some areas in the distance seemed to have small black tendrils streaming towards the ground from the huge cloud. "Can we get away in time?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Stay calm, and I'll get us out of Lawndale and Baltimore itself."

_Easy for you to say, _she thought.

**oooooooooo**

They didn't hit their first actual traffic jam until they reached State Road 139, and headed towards Sheppard and Lutherville. From the looks of it, several stalled cars had been pushed off the road and onto sidewalks and onto lawns and green-spaces. One had even been propped up against a light pole, its front bumper smashed in.

Even with the road cleared, the speed was intermittent, going from a low of barely coasting speed to a high of twenty miles per hour.

"I'm surprised that it took this long," John said, more to himself than to Scarlett.

She ignored him anyway and looked out her window. Since they moved slowly, she was able to watch the frantic activity at several homes and at a strip mall they passed. A Chinese buffet-style restaurant had its entrance blocked by a car and the door guarded by two of the cooks. One held a weapon, either a shotgun or a rifle, and the other held a broomstick.

One store, a mini-mart, was in the process of being cleaned out. What Scarlett couldn't tell was whether the people in there were shoppers or looters. Then she saw one man run outside with a cash register in his arms; he was followed out by another man in a long apron and armed with a pistol. The gunman fired once and the other man fell; the register hit the parking lot and the cash drawer opened. Paper money scattered and caused a minor panic amongst a few men and women in the parking lot.

"Cover your face up!" John said quickly. "You don't need to see that."

She ignored him and looked at the man who had been shot. He laid face down and still on the tarmac, while people in the lot rushed after the greenbacks. Blood pooled on his left side.

"Please, Scarlett," he said.

She sighed. "Hiding under the covers isn't going to help either one of us," she said and glanced at him. "You concentrate on driving and I'll keep a watch for any trouble."

He sighed. "Very well. But if you feel sick, there's a plastic bag in the car door - or you can roll the window down and puke outside."

"Why should I feel sick?" she asked.

He snorted. "When I ran home earlier, I passed an accident scene. There was a lot of blood - and other stuff." He shook his head. "I just don't want you getting upset - or sick."

Scarlett looked at him and laughed bitterly. "UPSET?" she yelled. "I can still feel that bastard's hands on me! He carried me like I was a toy, threw me on the couch and slapped me! If I'm not thinking about my parents, I'm thinking of what he _was_ going to do to me! He intended to rape me and beat me to a pulp! Shit! I'm not a little kid! Stop treating me like one! I was nearly freaking raped and you think some blood will 'upset' me?"

Her explosion startled him and he looked at her. "Scarlett, please, don't talk like that," he said, his voice soft. "Young ladies shouldn't talk like that."

"Dammit! What do you think I am? Some prim Sunday school student? I'm not!" She grabbed her ankh and held it up for him to look at. "Does this look like a cross to you?" She forced herself to calm down. "I...I'm sorry, John. I'm still upset and...and I shouldn't take it out on you."

A wry smile appeared on his face and he chuckled briefly. "I did say that if you wanted to talk to me, you could. It's better if you can get it out of your system."

She looked ahead and sunk into her car seat slightly. "I'm afraid," she said, her voice quieter.

"What of?"

"What if the rest of my family's dead, too? What do I do then?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm here for you." Then he reached over and patted her left knee gently for a few seconds. "You won't be alone, I promise."

Scarlett watched his hand as he moved it back to the steering wheel. Then she looked back outside and shuddered.

**oooooooooo**

The traffic thinned out as they passed Sheppard and John was able to speed up to fifty miles per hour. He sighed and looked at Scarlett, a small smile on his face. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

She looked behind them. "I feel a little better getting away from that cloud."

"Well, the weather this morning said that the winds were out of the west, but would change to a northeasterly direction. Once I get us several more miles north, I'll turn and take us west."

"Where are you taking me--I mean, us?"

He sped up and switched lanes briefly as he passed a slow moving flatbed truck, then got back in the right lane. "I'm taking us to Hampstead," he said and sped up to fifty-five.

"What's there?"

"A storage business, where my insurance business uses more than half the spaces. I figured that if we get there by sundown, we could stay in one of the spaces overnight - get some rest - and try to get some news and find out what the government's doing and where the refugee or relocation centers are."

Scarlett looked at him skeptically and asked, "Are you allowed to do that?" _O.K., suddenly I can't read you. What's up with that?_

He glanced at her. "I have before. We keep an RV in one enclosed space and when we had business in the Hampstead or Hagerstown area, it was a cheap place to crash." He smiled smugly. "When you own a controlling interest in a business, you pretty much make the rules." Then he saw her expression and added, "Don't worry. It's pretty comfortable. It beats paying hotel rates and all their hidden fees and taxes. We'll be safe there."

_But will I be safe there?_

**oooooooooo**

The store-and-lock business was actually a fenced in lot they came to about a half-mile before they entered Hampstead itself. John unlocked the fence, drove in and relocked it again, then negotiated the gravel drives between the several buildings.

He finally stopped outside a large garage door labeled "73" and put the car into park. "Wait here," he said and got out.

Scarlett looked around nervously as John unlocked a small control device and pushed a button inside it. The garage door opened and she looked inside as he turned on the overhead light.

The space was huge; it had to be, since a large recreational vehicle sat parked along one side and there was room for two more such vehicles to be parked.

John jumped back inside the car and pulled in the garage. He ignored Scarlett as he shut off the car and got back outside.

She looked out the rear window and suddenly felt cold as she watched the garage door shut. Then she winced as the door lock activated - loudly.

"We're here," he said. "Come on and I'll show you the RV."

The redhead teen got out of the car and stretched to work out the kinks in her limbs as John opened the door to the RV and waited for her.

She climbed up into the darkened interior and hesitated.

John lit a candle and carried it in.

The first thing Scarlett noticed was a large queen-sized bed in front of her. Two pillows laid at the head, both fluffed up. She hesitated and gawked at the bed as he shut the door to the RV behind them.

_Oh, shit!_

(To be continued...)


	5. Chapter 5

**5. True Colors**

Scarlett froze in place as John set the candle on a small dinner table; he said, "Time to relax, Scarlett," and gently patted her left shoulder.

She looked at his hand as it rested on her and nearly groaned when he gave her a small squeeze. _Relax? How am I supposed to relax? Are you expecting us to sleep together? _At the same time, however, she could sense relief from him, as the tension of the drive seemed to flow away from him. _Why couldn't I sense your thoughts for awhile?_

He pulled out a chair from the table and glanced at her briefly. "I know we've been sitting for a long time," he said, "but I figured that we'd at least sit down while scanning the radio for some news."

She shuddered as she looked at the bed. Then she looked at him and said, "But you couldn't find anything on the car radio."

John nodded. "That's right," he said and opened up a cabinet. "The car radio leaves a lot to be desired. It isn't as good as this radio is, for instance." He pulled out a large portable radio and held it up. "Or should I say 'boom box'?" He laughed and sat it on the table. "On a good night, I can pick up Cincinnati, New Orleans and Montreal with this."

Scarlett looked at the bed again and swallowed nervously. "Big bed," she commented and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, it sure is," he said and plugged the radio in. "Took four of us a whole day to get it in the RV. He pulled up the antenna and smiled at her. "It was worth it, though. It's very comfortable."

_I'll bet it is, _she thought and shook. She grabbed the back of one chair to steady her hands and arms. She did note that his attention was on the radio, however, and his thoughts reflected a desire to learn what had happened. She gave him a curious look briefly. _Do I also detect some 'fear' in you as well? If we're 'safe' in here, then what are you afraid of?_

"Normally, I would walk around and get a little exercise," he said and clapped his hands together in nervous excitement. "Besides, I have a feeling that this situation will bring out the worst in some people. That keeps me inside right now, plus I find that I really want to know what's going on - how bad off we really are." He blinked and looked away briefly. "I have a feeling that it isn't very good." He sighed and his shoulders slumped briefly. "Have a seat, Scarlett."

The redhead sat down quickly in the nearest chair and put her hands on her lap. She waited as he turned on the radio and adjusted the tuner slowly.

John sat across from her and continued to adjust the tuner. Very faint voices could be heard, but they faded almost as soon as they were heard. He occasionally moved the antenna slightly in seemingly vain attempts to improve reception.

Then, after a few minutes, the radio quickly came to life. "...knows, we have lost our nation's capital. Washington, D.C., the seat of our government for more than two hundred years...is no more. We have received word from unnamed military sources that the president and vice-president are safe and in places of security as they turn their attention to fight back against the unprovoked attacks against our land.

"Other cities we know of that have been lost include Norfolk, Virginia, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania..."

Scarlett blinked and her chin quivered. _Dad...Mom...why did you go to Philadelphia? Why didn't you take me along with you? We'd...we'd be together now. _She closed her eyes and tears then flowed down her cheeks.

"...and Jacksonville, Florida. We have heard rumors and stories that New York City has also been bombed, but our sister station in the Big Apple is still on the air. They report that there has been missile damage in the Bronx, but that it is under the control of emergency services.

"We know of no other destroyed cities at this time, but we have also lost contact with cities west of Pittsburgh and Atlanta. We don't know if this is due to sabotage or side effects of the bombing itself. There are reports, though, of massive evacuation efforts in New York City, Boston, Atlanta and other cities. We have..."

The radio then squealed and they lost the station, though an occasional word or part of a word could still be heard. Scarlett cried silently as John continued to search for more stations.

Finally, he turned the radio off and sighed in frustration. "Well," he said, "at least we still have a government. Scarlett, are you--" He turned towards her and stopped.

The teen sat still and shook hard. She looked down as she cried.

"Scarlett?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at him through tear-blurred eyes. "I want my parents," she said, her voice weak and trembling. "I want my parents." Then she started bawling and covered her face.

The man looked at her uncertainly for several seconds, then knelt down in front of her and touched her left arm. "Scarlett?"

"I'm alone!" she cried out. "I have nobody! I really have nobody!"

John took a deep breath. "You aren't alone, Scarlett," he said and patted her left shoulder gently. "I'm here with you."

She shook her head and took several quick and shallow breaths as she cried. "My...my Dad...my Mom...they were all I had and now they're gone! Why couldn't I have been with them? Why? Why? WHY!"

He moved his right hand behind the girl's head and gently guided her to his left shoulder. Her body wracked with sobs as he patted her back and said, "You're not alone. I promise you that. You're not alone."

Scarlett cried in his shoulder hard as he wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her gently and said quietly in her left ear, "It'll be O.K. Let it out, Scarlett, let it out. I'm here for you."

For the next several minutes, the girl cried hard and John held her firmly, yet gently. After a minute or two, he moved his right hand down her back to the back strap of her brassiere, then back up.

"I'll take care of you," he whispered and lightly kissed her hair near her left ear. "You aren't alone."

As her cries slowly died down, she became more aware of his hold on her and lifted her face off of his shoulder. _You just kissed me!_ "John?" she asked, her voice scared.

He moved his hands to her upper arms and broke the hug. Then he gave her a small smile and said, "You aren't alone, Scarlett. I will help you out as much as I can."

_Not only did you kiss me, but you also touched my bra strap_, she thought. _You wanted to unhook it._

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I can fix us a quick dinner."

The teen blinked and simply looked at him. "A dinner? How can you eat after what we've seen and heard today?"

He released her, stood up and shrugged. "We need to keep our strength up," he said. "There is canned food and soft drinks in the RV and I'll heat up something for us."

She sat there, and the more she thought about it, she _was_ hungry - famished, actually. Her fear of John and the entire situation had simply took over her mind. "Um, O.K. Do you want my help?"

John glanced at her and smiled, then shook his head. "You're a guest. I'll take care of it. If you need to use the restroom, there's a small one on the other side of the bed." He lit a second candle off the first and handed the candle holder to her.

She blushed and nodded as she accepted the light. _You think I'll feel better with a meal inside me and a rest. Maybe you're right - but I'll keep an eye on you all night. _She stood up and walked around the bed. _But why couldn't I sense your thoughts for awhile earlier?_

"Scarlett?" She turned around. "What kind of soft drink do you like? Cola, root beer or orange soda?"

She thought and said, "Orange, please."

He smiled and said, "O.K., go on and I'll take care of it."

The girl then stepped into the tiny bathroom and shut the door.

**oooooooooo**

They ate canned spaghetti and meatballs with crackers and soft drinks. That was followed by canned fruit cocktail. The meal passed in silence, but Scarlett watched him as she ate.

After he finished his food and sat back, she covered her mouth and burped.

"S'cuse me," she said. "Thank you."

He finished his cola and said, "I always believed in being prepared. We had a lot of work in this area and this RV, with the food in it, came in handy, as well as made us a profit." He shook his head. "A lot of people need storage for personal junk."

"How come you don't have the power hooked up in here?" she asked. "You used a camp stove and the drinks weren't that cold."

"Because sometimes, we wouldn't be here for more than a month." He stretched and stood up. "Usually, I'd come here first, hook up the power, and go about my business. Then, I'd come back that night and rest." He yawned and covered his mouth with his right hand. "Pardon me."

Scarlett blinked as he seemed to waver slightly in front of her. She shook her head and said, "I think I'm getting tired." He seemed to waver again.

He looked at her intently. "I know I'm tired," he replied and yawned.

"How..." She blinked and shook her head again. _Oh, shit! He's drugged me! _She got to her feet and stumbled onto the floor.

John bent down beside her and helped her up.

"No..." she managed to say as he then picked her up in his arms

"Shhh," he said quietly and smiled at her face. "You've had a long, bad day and you need to rest."

"Don't do this," she muttered and felt her consciousness fade.

The man managed to pull the blankets back and laid the unconscious girl down on the right side of the bed. He propped her head on the pillow and smiled down at her. "You get some rest, honey," he said as he removed her shoes and laid them on the side of the bed.

Next, he removed the ankh necklace from around her neck and set it on a bedside table. "You've had a very bad and very long day." He pulled the blankets up to her neck and lightly stroked the right side of her face. "You are so beautiful. I'll give you a few days to mourn and then we'll...discuss intimacy."

He went to the restroom briefly, then blew out both candles. In the darkness, he moved to the other side of the bed and took off his shoes. Then he got under the blankets and moved closer to the unconscious girl.

"Good night, Scarlett," he said and kissed her unresponsive mouth for several seconds. He moved his right hand down over the front of her T-shirt slowly and then kissed her right ear. "I'll take real good care of you, I promise." He kissed her again. "I love you, beautiful."

Then turned on his side and closed his eyes.

(To be continued...)


	6. Chapter 6

**6. Changed Relationship**

Scarlett suppressed a groan as her consciousness returned to her and she quickly opened her eyes, then looked down. Then she winced in pain and closed her eyes briefly. _Oh, man, I've been in the same position all night. Wonder what time it is?_ Then she blinked and drew in a deep breath. _John drugged me! Oh, dammit, he---_

She tried to move her arms and realized that they were tied to the head board. _Oh, shit!_ Next she tried to move her feet slightly, but found that her ankles were bound together. A look of confusion appeared on her face and she slowly turned her head to look towards the kitchen.

John was at the camp stove cooking something up. Scarlett didn't know what it was, but it did smell good and she tried to keep from salivating. She turned her head back, closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves.

Then she heard him sing and winced. "_I don't want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in your heart..._"

For the next minute or two, she ignored him as she laid still and paid attention to how her body felt. From what she could tell, she still had her clothes on, and they didn't feel weird on her - so apparently he didn't strip her and redress her. Neither her crotch nor her butt hurt, so apparently he also didn't rape her - yet - but that didn't rule out being felt up.

She moved her mouth and grimaced at the normal morning taste she got from a dry mouth, but that was normal whenever she slept with her mouth open. That confused her even more. She looked at John and thought, _Just what in the hell did you do to me?_

Then he turned around and saw her opened eyes. "Good morning, beautiful!" he said, his voice loud, and smiled at her. "How are you feeling?"

Scarlett took a deep breath and coughed. "Don't call me that," she said hoarsely and closed her eyes briefly.

"Why not? You _are_ beautiful."

The teen narrowed her eyes and glared at her captor. "What did you do to me?" she asked.

"In fact, you are a total vision of loveliness."

"What did you do to me?"

"I could just sit and look at you for hours."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

His smile widened and said, "You mean after I put you to sleep?"

"Yes!"

John chuckled and said, "I kissed your lovely mouth, ran my hand over your firm boobies for a minute, then slept beside you. After I woke up, I tied you down so that...you wouldn't give me any trouble."

For several seconds, she stared at him, then said, "You had no right to do any of that to me."

He sighed and shook his head. "You kept making comments about how you wished you could die," he said. "I put you to sleep to keep you from doing that."

"Bullshit! You put me to sleep so you could do what you wanted to me."

John blinked and took the skillet off the camp stove. He then turned off the burner and walked to the bed.

The redhead let out a shocked cry as the man got on the bed, then mounted her and moved his face right in front of hers. "So what if I did?" he asked, his voice and expression calm. He then ran his left hand over the left side of her face. "I think that I've earned that right, don't you?"

"NO!"

His response was to kiss her mouth. She tried to pull her head away, but he grabbed it with both hands and held it in place. When he broke the kiss, he said, "There are some rules for you to follow now, Scarlett."

"Get off of me!"

He kissed her mouth again, then kissed the tip of her nose. "First of all, I'm in charge. I understand that this is all new amd scary to you, but I'm not trying to be mean here. Remember those boys who attacked you back at Lawndale. I'm going to protect and take care of you, and in return, you will be my...close companion...and lover."

The redhead tried to bite his lower lip and he quickly pulled his head back. He smiled at her, but she could read his thoughts clearly enough. _One more word, little girl, one more attempt to hurt me, and I'll strip your ass bare...and you'll stay that way. Then I'll screw you to death!_

Scarlett blinked and stared at John's face for several seconds, then closed her eyes as she broke down. _He's not afraid anymore. He's...excited_. Tears ran from her eyes as she cried and she turned her head to the left.

"There, there," he said and stroked her face gently. "It'll be O.K., Scarlett. Don't be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you if you cooperate with me."

"My family's dead and I'm alone!" she cried out and sobbed. "Now, you've got me tied up and I...I _am_ afraid of what you're going to do to me!"

John stroked her face some more as she cried.

She heard his thoughts again as he did that. _I've got you right where I want you, little girl. As long as_ you _are the one afraid of _me,_ then I'll get what I want._

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said, his voice calm and cool. "Just remember that I'm in charge and what I say goes. Understand?"

Scarlett cried some more, then her sobs subsided. She swallowed and nodded several times. "Yes, sir," she said, her voice a whisper.

He frowned. "Don't call me 'sir', Scarlett. My name's John."

"Yes, John."

He kissed her again, then turned his attention to her neck and kissed her there for nearly a minute.

"John?" she asked.

The man lifted his head and smiled down at her. "What, honey?"

She suppressed a grimace and said, "I'd...I'd like some time to mourn my parents before you...well, you know, with me."

John nodded and rolled off of her. "That's fair," he said and sat up beside her. "I'll give you three days to mourn, but we'll still kiss and share the bed."

Scarlett blushed and looked away. "What about Lisa?" she asked. "What do we tell her?"

He chuckled. "You don't worry about Lisa," he said. "You aren't the first young lady I've had in here."

The teen blinked. _I didn't read that in your thoughts!_

John laughed even louder and smiled down at her face. "Lisa will accept whatever I tell her. So you don't have to worry about it. But I do have some rules for you."

"Oh?"

"First off, I've never understood why you dressed so modestly...or darkly." He hooked his right index finger in her T-shirt neckline, pulled it up and looked down her shirt. The teen squirmed, while he leered. "Nice bra, Scarlett. It looks good on you. After breakfast, though, we're going to look through some of the storage lockers for brighter clothes that fit you. I think you'd look real good in a halter top and shorts..."

_Ew!_ she thought. _Quit looking down my shirt!_

"...but the best thing would be to tie your hair back in a pony tail and get that dark lipstick off of your lips."

"It's a part of who I am," she said, then looked down. "Where's my ankh?"

"I took it," John said. "You don't need any of that pagan shit."

"But it's also a part of who I am!" she protested.

He smiled and stroked the left side of her face. "It's not a part of who you're going to be, though, Scarlett." Then he ran his hand down her neck, over her breasts and then down over the outside of her left hip. "You're a beautiful girl. A very beautiful girl. I'm going to be impatient having to wait for a piece of you, but it'll be worth it."

Scarlett blinked several times and kept her emotions under control, but inside whe seethed in anger. _You were afraid of me. That was the fear I felt from you yesterday. If I get a chance, you asshole, I'll run away from you. And you touched my breasts! Ew! You are older than both Dad and Mom and if you keep touching me there or between my legs or kissing me on the lips, I'm gonna barf! Ewwwww!_

"I have a request, John," she said, and looked at him.

"Yes, honey?"

_Quit calling me that!_ "If you wouldn't tie me up, I might not be as afraid of you." He looked skeptical and she quickly added, "What if you needed my help? I couldn't help you if I was tied up. I'm not going to fight you! But I'm going to really hurt if you keep me in this position all the time!" She looked away. "Besides, you did help me and...like you said, I owe you."

John looked down at her, then reached down to her ankles and untied them. He laid the rope aside and then untied her wrists.

The redhead sat up in the bed and rubbed her wrists for nearly a minute as the man watched her.

"Just remember, Scarlett. This isn't a right. It's a privilege. I'm giving you a trial basis and if you give me any trouble, I'll have your tied-up ass back in this bed."

"I promise I won't be any trouble," she said. "But what if we have to evacuate? What do we do then?"

"Let's eat breakfast, and I'll try to pick up another station."

They went back to the table, where John served her warmed up roast beef hash and cold canned apricots, with a room-temperature box of apple juice.

Scarlett ate in silence as John alternated between tuning the radio and eating his food. _I wonder where he has my ankh? I hope he didn't break it...or throw it away._

Finally, John turned from the radio in disgust and slammed his fist on the table, which caused the girl to jump and flinch away from him. "Dammit!" He looked at her and said, "It's O.K., Scarlett. I'm not mad at you. It's just that this radio is usually better than this. The bombs must have caused the reception to get screwy." He smiled at her then. "We'll try again after supper."

"I hope you understand that I'm a little nervous," she said.

"Yeah, I understand," he replied and smirked at her. "You have pre-invasion jitters."

'_Pre-invasion jitters?' You sick son of a bitch, you really think that you're being romantic with me, don't you?_

He nodded. "Finish up your food, then we'll get to work. Not only do I want to find you some brighter clothes, I want to look for hunting, camping or survival gear."

She drank some juice and asked, "What if the...uh, renters of the storage units shows up while we're searching them?"

"I changed the fence locks when we got here. Nobody else is getting in her, honey. We're going to be all alone in here, so go ahead and finish your food."

She turned her attention back to her food and closed her eyes when he touched her hair and stroked it.

**oooooooooo**

After several hours of going through different storage lockers, they mostly found a bunch of junk and few things of use. The only clothes that John found which Scarlett could even wear were two thin white crop tops.

The redheaded teen shuddered as she looked over the thin and see-through T-shirt material. _I probably could have fit into these...when I was thirteen or maybe fourteen. Now, they're gonna be tight over my breasts...if they even cover them at all. _She looked at John as he kicked one box in frustration. _You'll naturally love how they look on me...pervert._

As he relocked the fifth storage locker, he muttered and turned to the girl. "I tell you, Scarlett, most people are not like us."

"Like us?" she asked. "What do you mean?" _I am NOT like you, creep! I will never be like you!_

"Lisa and I kept our place neat and clean. So did you and your folks. But you saw the shit in those lockers. I should have charged those filthy freaks a lot more than I did. I can't believe that people valued trash like that."

"I know what you mean," she said. "Most of that stuff stunk."

The older man stopped outside the next locker and said, "We'll go through this one, then relax awhile. O.K.?"

She nodded.

He smiled at her. "I love you, Scarlett."

She blushed and looked away.

"Don't worry," he said and laughed. "I don't expect you to say it yet. But you will."

_The hell I will._

John opened the door and turned on the light. Inside were at least three dozen boxes on pallets, several pieces of furniture and a teardrop trailer. "Cool," he said.

"What's that?" Scarlett asked and pointed at the trailer.

He opened the door and showed her. "A camping trailer. A couple could sleep in there, then prepare food outside on the rear kitchen attachment. Kind of compact, but cozy." Then he smiled at her. "We'll try it out sometime."

She blinked. _Ew._

"I'll take the boxes on the right," he said. "You go on the other side of the trailer and search those boxes. If you find anything good, let me know."

Scarlett sighed silently with relief as she stepped away from John. Besides the lust he had for her, she could also sense that he now had an attitude of responsibility over her since she had "agreed" to his demands. _He thinks that if he takes care of me and protects me, then I'll just 'love' him to pieces. Idiot!_

She opened the first box and looked at several assorted magazines and newspapers inside. _This is going to be boring. Maybe I'll find something to read later...if John lets me, that is._

**oooooooooo**

In the fourth box Scarlett opened, she found several Army green packages labeled "MRE" with several different food items offered and nearly yelled out to John, but stopped and squinted at something under one package.

She moved the ration package and found a very small knife in a scabbard. When she pulled it out, she found the blade to be only four or five inches long, with a thinner piece of metal connecting to a handle that was perpendicular to it. She unfolded a piece of paper that laid under it and muttered, "A push dagger?" She looked up at John, who was busy skimming what looked like a men's magazine. She rolled her eyes and quickly put the dagger back into its scabbard.

She then stood up and placed it in her right front pocket, her gaze on John the entire time. Then she pocketed the paper as well and cleared her throat. "I think I found something," she said and got his attention.

He closed the magazine and walked over to her. When he saw the MREs, he laughed, quickly hugged her and said, "You did good, Scarlett. This kind of thing was what I was hoping to find. Thanks, honey." He quickly kissed her right cheek and picked up the box.

As he carried it towards the door, the redhead stared at him as she wiped her cheek and thought, _You have to sleep sometime, you son of a bitch. _She punched her left palm with her right fist, smiled slightly, then followed him.


	7. Chapter 7

**7. John Makes His Move**

As Scarlett and John walked outside the storage units to the one he used as his own motel, she looked up at the skies. _Looks like snow, _she thought and shuddered.

John opened the door and held it open for her as she walked in. He smirked as he looked at her backside. "Nice ass," he said and chuckled when she stopped and turned around. Then he followed her inside the locker and set the box down on the hood of his car. He locked the door again, crooked his right index finger towards Scarlett and said, "Come here, lover."

She suppressed a groan and her shoulders slumped as she moved up to the older man. When he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him, she closed her eyes. His lips came into contact with hers and she shuddered as she waited until he broke the kiss.

Scarlett opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Do you have to keep doing that?" she asked.

His response was to lightly stroke the left side of her face and kiss her left cheek. "In a few days, we're going to be doing a lot more," he said. "A whole lot more. Relax and accept this. The world has changed and you should see this for what it is."

The redhead blinked and moved her hair away from her right eye. "What is it?"

"This is a blessing for both of us. I protect you, shelter you and feed you. In return, you provide me with affection, warmth and comfort in bed."

The girl felt her anger flare up inside her, but held it in. _You really think this is some sort of trade off, you stupid freak! How in the hell can you even dare call this a 'blessing' for me?_

She cleared her throat, looked him in the eyes and said carefully, "I don't see how what happened changes anything. Basic decency and kindness should still be practiced...or else we'd be that much closer to anarchy."

John nodded and kissed her forehead, then her lips. "You're right. That's why I'm giving you time to mourn." He hugged her briefly. "Not only are you beautiful, you're smart. That's a winning combination and I'm a lucky man to have you."

_If it wasn't me, you'd have some other girl in here_. She tried to see if she could detect how many girls he had taken in the trailer, but the thoughts and memories she could read revealed nothing about that. _What happens when you're done with me? _She moved her right hand over her hip pocket and felt the outline of the pushdagger. _What did you do to the other girls?_

Suddenly, John kissed her lips again and she grimaced as he tried to push his tongue in her mouth. Her clamped teeth kept him from that, but when he broke the kiss, he laughed and ran his right hand over her left arm. "Let's go on inside, beautiful. We'll eat and try to find out some more news."

As she opened the RV door, he added, "After lunch, you can try on the crop tops for me."

Scarlett winced and frowned as she entered the vehicle. He followed her in a couple of seconds later.

Once he shut the RV door, he tried the light switch and smiled when the power turned on. "Good," he said. "I wondered if the power would be out. We'll save the candles for later, just in case we need them." He set the box of rations on the kitchen counter and looked the teen over slowly. "Of course, we'll use the candles for our first screwing. It'll be much more romantic that way."

The girl gasped, blinked and moved back slightly. _Oh, shit! You're going to do it tonight! You're going to wait until I'm asleep and attack me. Your thoughts on that are so clear - and graphic_. She sat down quickly at the table and gripped the edge with both hands to hide her nervous shaking. She also looked away from his face, but still felt his lewd staring.

He threw something at her and she jumped as the crop tops landed on the tips of her fingers. "Why don't you try these on for me?" he asked as she quickly looked back up at him. "Let me see how you look in them."

Scarlett noted again how thin the material was and swallowed hard. _He's definitely going to rape me tonight...or after lunch. This leaves nothing to the imagination. _"What if they...reveal too much?" she asked, her voice seemingly smaller. "I'm embarrassed by this whole situation as it is."

John moved up to her and knelt on one knee in front of her. He tapped her left breast with his right index finger and said, "No reason to be embarrassed, Scarlett. No reason to be ashamed. I've seen you totally naked before." He cupped her breast then; she gasped and visibly shook as he squeezed her. "You're a very beautiful girl - I mean, young woman. I've longed for the chance to see you like that again."

Then the man moved up closer and hugged her awkwardly. She grimaced as he did and thought, _Oh, hell, I can feel his...thing...through his pants against my leg. And he's excited. _She tried to move her leg, but he pressed harder against her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice a taunt. "Feel something?"

"John," she said, her voice shaky, "you're scaring me."

"When the time comes, we'll sleep naked, girl." He smiled at her and winked. "Once you relax and accept your place, you learn to like it."

To the girl's shock, he bent his head down and kissed her left breast, then stood up. "Go in the bathroom," he said, his voice firm. "Take off the T-shirt and try on one of the crop tops. Now." He moved back to the counter. "I'll heat us up a can of beef chow mein while you model for me."

The girl felt a strong urge to pee...and vomit. She stood up slowly, balled the tops up in her left hand and moved away from the table and around the bed towards the bathroom.

"Scarlett!"

She turned around and felt his gaze burn into her eyes. "Yes?"

"Before you put on the crop top, take off your bra and throw it away. You won't need a bra after today."

_You might not even let me eat lunch_, she thought and nodded. "O.K.," she said, in resignation and walked into the bathroom.

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett nearly broke down in the bathroom and resisted the urge to lock the door. _He'll just break in and get me if I do that_, she thought and wiped at the tears than ran down her cheeks.

She pulled off the T-shirt and laid it on the hand sink. Her hands shook as she reached behind her back and she bit her lower lip as she unhooked her bra.

Her thoughts went to the pushdagger in her pocket. _I don't know if I can do this, _she thought as she removed her bra and put on the first crop top.

From the image in the mirror and her own self-consciousness, the top called total attention to her chest and she blushed. "I was right," she muttered and suppressed a sob. "It leaves nothing to the imagination."

"Scarlett!" John's voice yelled from the kitchenette area. "Hurry up and show me how you look in it!"

A wave of anger swept through her and she frowned. _I can do this. _She reached into the pocket and made sure that she could pull the weapon out quickly...if she needed to. Then she made her frown disappear, opened the bathroom door and stepped out for his inspection.

A low wolf-whistle greeted the teen and her blush intensified. She stood there as he stared at her chest.

Behind John, a microwave oven heated up the food and suddenly beeped as it finished.

"Damn, you're not just beautiful," he said. "You're freaking gorgeous!"

She stared at him.

"Come on and have a seat," he said. "We'll eat and listen to the news."

Scarlett exhaled slowly and obeyed him. When she sat down, she tried to hold her arms in front of her breasts and waited.

After a minute, John set a bowl of chow mein and a bottle of orange soda in front of the girl. He saw her attempt to shield herself and laughed. "Hell, girl, I can see your boobs, so you might as well stop it, relax and just let me look. Like I said, I've already seen you in all your glory."

"When?" she asked quickly and stared at his face. "When did you see me naked?"

John's smile widened; he served himself and sat opposite her. "On one Saturday last July, you mowed for me when your parents went out for the day. Remember?"

She nodded.

"You went home after than and took a nice long shower. I watched you the entire time."

The girl's face went pale. "You...you were in the bathroom with me. I thought something was wrong then!"

He chuckled and nodded. "While you took off your messy shoes and pants in the garage, I snuck in the unlocked utility room door, went up to your room and waited. You went straight to the bathroom and undressed. You left the door open and I came in as you adjusted the shower strength and temperature." He sighed as the memory replayed in his mind. "You made me really hot then. As you finished, I went home...and Lisa showed up nearly ten minutes later. I barely let her get the front door shut that day...and I took her right there near the front door."

_And you thought of my naked body the whole time you had sex with her, you pervert! _"What...what if I had caught you then?" she asked. "What would you have done?"

The man said nothing, and simply smiled at her.

A cold chill swept through Scarlett and she shuddered as she realized the answer.

"It would have been fun," he said, "but I'm glad you didn't catch me. It would have caused...problems."

_No shit! Dad would have killed you! If Mom or Lisa didn't first._ Then her face paled and she looked down. _You would have killed me right after the rape...to keep me from telling on you._ She took a bite of her meal.

John turned towards the radio and turned it on. "Enough about romance, let's hear the news."

Scarlett nearly choked on his use of the word "romance". She bit back her response and quickly washed the food down with a drink of soda.

For more than a minute, the man slowly tuned the radio, until a voice came in crystal clear. "...president is in an undisclosed location at this present time, while an attempt is now underway to determine how many members of the Congress and Supreme Court have survived the bombings yesterday. It has been confirmed that St. Louis, Missouri and Cleveland, Ohio, _are_ among the list of destroyed cities..."

John turned off the radio and sat there, his expression shocked. "Lisa," he said, his voice weak and uncertain. He covered his face with both hands and sat there, still and unmoving.

Scarlett looked at him, unsure of what to say, or even do. A small part of her wanted to touch his arm in a gesture of comfort, but she knew that he would misinterpret it and held herself back.

In fact, she could see his arms tense as the minutes passed. _Oh, hell, here it comes. _She tensed as well and slowly moved her chair back.

He lowered his hands and looked at her face. "You don't need to worry about Lisa anymore," he said, a small smile crossing his face. "It's just you and me, all alone now..._lover_." He stood up.

She stood up as well and backed up slightly. "You...you promised to wait, so I could mourn my parents!"

"You've had enough time, girl." He rushed at her.

"NO!" she cried out as he grabbed her and threw her onto the bed.

Before she could get up or roll away, John mounted her and immediately forced his mouth onto hers. He kissed on her as she tried unsuccessfully to push his body off of hers.

Scarlett gave up that struggle and groaned as he pulled her top up to her neck with one hand. The other hand moved to her pants and unbuttoned the top. Then he tried to unzip them.

Quickly, she reached into her pocket and closed her hand on the pushdagger's handle. Almost instantly, her hand felt hot and she had an sudden image of the knife in front of her, while two or three Asian-looking men in military outfits stood in front of her, knives in their hands.

She turned her head and broke the kiss, but could still only see the three Asians. She screamed at the top of her lungs and ripped the weapon out of her pocket. Then she struck again and again as the image of the three overrode all of her senses.

A man screamed out some obscenities, but Scarlett ignored that as she fought. A knife blade barely missed her right arm and she buried the blade into the chest of the man who held it, then yanked it out. He fell to the floor and his body shuddered as it laid there.

The pushdagger blade dripped with blood and the redhead attacked the other two Asian men. A loud, animalistic scream escaped her lips as she slashed and stabbed at them, until they both fell under her attack.

Then the image faded and Scarlett stood in the RV at the side of the bed. On the blankets, John laid, multiple stab wounds in his chest, neck and even his face. He groaned and shuddered as he laid there.

The girl saw the blood that coated her right hand and she quickly threw the pushdagger onto the floor. A startled cry escaped her lips and she backed away from the man and the bed. "Oh, shit, what did I do? What did I do?"

She finally came up against the kitchen door and sat on the floor hard, her right hand in the air in front of her.

Scarlett Hawkins sat there and cried as rivulets of his blood ran to her elbow..

(To be continued...)


	8. Chapter 8

**8. A Cold Farewell**

Scarlett sat by the door and cried for several minutes, her tear-filled stare on John's body the entire time.

He was still alive, however, as was proven by his loud groans. He also coughed weakly and moved his right arm up a few times, but other than that, he stayed on his back. From where she sat, she could see that at least three of his stab wounds still bled profusely.

Finally, the redhead teen awkwardly got back to her feet and held her right hand out in front of her. She could tell that the blood was drying on it and grimaced at both the sight and smell of it. She moved around the bed at the farthest distance she could; his hate-filled stare followed her as she moved.

"You lousy witch!" he spat out and coughed. "You...you've killed me."

Scarlett said nothing in response, but still watched him as she moved into the bathroom. She washed her hands thoroughly, and continued to watch him through the open door the entire time.

"Help me, damn you!"

The girl walked back around the bed and looked at John, her expression cold. Then her gaze fell on the blood-covered pushdagger on the floor and she stopped.

After several seconds of hesitation, she remembered to breathe and knelt down carefully. As she did that, she glanced at the man, then back at the weapon. Her expression as she watched the knife was both fascinated and terrified. _What did that thing do to me? Who were those men?_

"Dammit, girl, I'm going to bleed to death if you don't help me!" He coughed again. "It hurts all inside me. Help me!"

Scarlett glanced sideways at the man, then looked back down at the pushdagger. She slowly reached out and touched the handle for a brief moment, then drew her hand back. After she cleared her throat, she swallowed and her bottom lip shook.

She touched it again; the metal was already cooling off and the blood was starting to dry on it as well. Then she grabbed it, stood up and stared at John for several seconds.

He saw the weapon in her hand and whimpered. "Don't...don't...please don't."

The girl snorted in disgust and walked back into the bathroom. She washed the man's blood off the pushdagger and carefully dried it off with the spare crop top.

As she started to throw away the wet garment, she saw her bra laying on top of the wadded up tissues and paper towels. She pulled it out, then removed the crop top she had on. She saw several blood smears on the material and gasped. Then she looked in the mirror at her chest and belly. John had apparently bled a lot, for it had gotten on her arms, chest and belly. There was even a smear of blood on her left cheek near her lips.

She looked down at her jeans and buttoned them. From what she could tell, she hadn't gotten any blood on them. She walked to the doorway and stared at John, who laid still on the bedspread.

Then the girl washed herself more thoroughly; not only did she clean her face, she wet her hair down, scrubbed her arms and chest, then removed her jeans to make totally sure that she didn't get blood on them.

**oooooooooo**

It was nearly fifteen minutes before Scarlett returned to the bed where John still laid. She now had back on her jeans, which had been washed near the left hip and a small section on the right thigh. She also wore her bra and T-shirt again.

He was still alive, and looked at the girl weakly. "You're just going to let me lay here and bleed to death?" he asked and coughed. The cough sounded as if he had congestion.

_I must have punched a hole in his lung_, she thought.

"Where is my ankh?" she asked, her expression still cold.

"You got me in this state!" he responded. "Help me!"

"Why should I?" she asked then.

"I...I saved your life and protected you."

She blinked and exhaled loudly. "You drugged me, molested me, repeatedly kissed me against my will, made it very plain that you intended to screw me whether I wanted it or not and then you tried to rape me!" She spat on his face and he gasped in surprise. "YOU BASTARD! I OWE YOU NOTHING!"

"Please, help me," he then said, his voice pleading. "I'm begging you!" He coughed again. "I won't hurt you or do anything to you. I promise."

Scarlett snorted, positioned the pushdagger in her right hand and held it up for him to see. Then she asked again, "Where is my ankh?"

John closed his eyes briefly and slowly shook his head. "Why should I tell you? You're just going to kill me anyway."

A small smile formed on her face and she looked down at him. "Yes, I am going to kill you. But you're still going to answer my question."

His eyes bulged out and he said, "My right front pocket! It's in there! Just don't kill me, please!"

The girl looked down at the man, and shook her head. "You know, John, if you had played your cards right with me and treated me like a friend and not a sex toy, I probably would have...responded to you." She shook her head again. "I would have comforted you for your loss. But, you blew it. You really blew it badly."

She moved to his right side and shoved her left hand down his pants pocket. After a couple of seconds, she grimaced and said, "Ew, gross. You keep your hanky there."

"That's not..." he started to say as she pulled out a pair of her white panties..

The girl stared at the garment in her hand for several seconds and sighed loudly. "Tell me, John, does stealing some of my underwear do something for you? I understand why you took my ankh. After all, it does mean something to me." She held up the panties in her hand. "This is simply clothing." She then shook her head. "I will never understand the male mind."

Scarlett dug back into the man's pocket and sighed in relief as she pulled out the ankh. Quietly, she put the necklace back on and looked down at him. "I have another question for you," she said. "How did such a decent, God-fearing woman like Lisa get stuck with a sick, depraved freak like you?"

When John simply coughed and didn't answer her, she continued, "I mean, I'd watch her on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights when she went to church. You never went with her, because apparently, you'd rather watch me and lust after me than to strengthen your marriage to a very nice and beautiful woman."

"Please, Scarlett, help me."

The girl crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I'm sorry, John, but no. If I did and you got better, you'd make my life a living hell. I don't want to spend the last days of my life being raped, beaten, and tortured."

"I wouldn't..." he started to say and coughed again. This time the cough sounded very congested.

"You told that one boy that he had no right to touch me - right before you killed him." She sighed and shook her head again. "You had no right either, but you did it anyway. You're older than my dad, yet you kissed on me, felt me up and laid on top of me!" She shuddered in disgust. "I take back what I said. I _wouldn't_ have comforted you. Ew!"

"I would have treated you like a rare treasure," he said, his voice nearly a gasp. "A goddess, even!"

"Bullshit!" She moved her hand to his left side. "You don't rape a goddess, idiot!" She reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He blinked as she removed the money from it and shoved it in her left hip pocket. "This is payback for the groping you did," she said. She then removed the two sets of keys he had as well. "The car is for putting me to sleep and kissing on me."

"You stabbed me!"

"Yeah, I know, but you tried to rape me and I had to do something to protect myself."

"Scarlett, I would have loved you."

The teen pulled one of the kitchen chairs nearer to the bed and sat down. "Love and rape are mutually exclusive, John," she said and smiled slightly. "I wrote that in an essay once."

"What are you..." He coughed hard, then groaned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting," she said, "for you to die."

The man looked at her and shivered, then coughed again. "Would you...would you cover me up, please?" he asked. "It's so cold in here."

Scarlett found the temperature to be slightly warm and stuffy, but she could also smell the coppery odor of John's blood. She grabbed a crocheted cover from off a chair, unfolded it and laid it over the man.

When she sat back down and watched him, he blinked, coughed several times and said, "You are one cold-blooded bitch."

She said nothing and watched him.

**oooooooooo**

Sometime later, John Fleming lost consciousness and his head turned to the right. Scarlett stood up, looked at the man, then touched his neck to feel for a pulse. She found nothing and pulled the covers up over his head.

Without a word, she grabbed the box of MREs and took them out to the car. Then she returned to the RV and carried out the rest of the food.

Last of all, she put the pushdagger back into its holder and stuck it in her back pocket. Then she walked to the bed.

"Goodbye, John," she said and looked down at his body. "Too bad it ended the way it did." She sighed and shook her head. "We could have been friends."

With that said, she walked out of the RV and shut the door.

(To be continued...)


	9. Chapter 9

**9. A New Friend**

When Scarlett opened the storage trailer's doors and drove the car outside, she calmly sped between the buildings until she reached the main gate and slowed to a stop. _I took John's car keys_, she thought and blinked as she stared ahead. _But I didn't take his other keys._

The redhead sighed, backed the car up, then put it back into drive. She took a deep breath and as she started to press her right foot on the gas pedal, she hesitated. "I can't do this," she muttered and glanced at the pushdagger on the seat beside her.

Then a very brief and very blunt image came to her mind and she gasped. John Fleming was in it, and he dumped her over the side of a bridge into a flooded and muddy river. She was nude and from the way her body floated in the water as he watched it move downstream, she was dead. Or at least unconscious.

When the image passed from her, she looked in the rear-view mirror and saw something behind the car move for a very quick second. She quickly turned around and stared back for several seconds. _Oh, no, it looked like a man!_

The girl turned back around, floored the gas pedal and the car sped up quickly. By the time she hit the gates and burst them open, the car was up to sixty miles per hour. When she turned on the highway, the car swerved and she sped away from the store and lock business lot.

After more than five minutes of speeding away from the city that was near the storage lockers, Scarlett slowed the car to a stop and sat still. Her body shook and she forced herself to breathe. _Was that really a man, or did I imagine what I thought I saw?_

She realized that she had no idea how to get anywhere familiar. She knew the Lawndale area itself and could easily remember how to get around her old hometown of Warren, Indiana, but this place was a maze of unknown roads and uncertain destinations. What she realized was that she had no idea how to get out.

She finally drove on, at a slower speed.

**oooooooooo**

After nearly two hours of aimless driving, over both state highways and county roads, Scarlett noticed that the skies were darkening. She looked at a red split-level house up ahead and licked her upper lip nervously. "I need someplace to stay," she said. "I can't keep driving around like this." She looked closer at the grounds around the house. "No cars and no animals. I'm tired, alone, cold and scared." She briefly touched the ankh around her neck and then pulled into the driveway.

Once she reached the back of the house, she stopped the car, parked it and shut it off. For several seconds, the girl sat behind the wheel and gathered her nerves.

She stepped outside and instantly shivered from the sudden cold she felt. Somewhere in the distant southwest, it looked as if it were snowing or raining, but here it was just simply gray and cold.

From the back door, a single light could be seen, but from what the girl could tell, it was from a lamp near an unoccupied recliner. _Probably an automatic on-and-off light, like Mom had for the dining room._

Scarlett knocked on the door, anyway. Then she waited for several seconds before she knocked again.

As she waited, she shifted her weight from one foot to the next. But nobody answered the door and she finally turned the doorknob slowly and carefully.

The door opened and the teen walked into a medium sized kitchen with two stoves and a small breakfast table in the center of the room. She shut and locked the door, then slowly moved through the darkened house.

There was no musty smell, nor was there any dust to be seen. Plus, while the kitchen seem somewhat organized and clean, a pantry had been quickly ransacked, as were the bedrooms and bathroom. "O.K.," she said, "looks like no one's home. Wonder why?"

"The nuke explosions probably scared them and they ran," a male voice said from behind her.

Scarlett screamed and turned around quickly to face a man who was several feet behind her. She pulled the pushdagger out of her pocket and held it in front of her. "Who the hell are you?" she asked quickly. "Get out!"

The man raised his hands as he looked at the girl; he looked to be either in his late twenties or early thirties. He had thick dark hair and wore a pair of blue jeans with a short-sleeved light blue button-up shirt. What caught her attention the most was the pistol in the shoulder holster over his shirt.

The shirt looked as if he had slept in it, but she couldn't tell about his jeans. He looked mostly clean-shaven, except for a day's growth of razor stubble. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice even.

She glared at him and held the strange-looking knife in her right hand. "You're damned right you're not!" she said. "I told you to get out!"

"I was here first," he said. He pulled a pistol out of the holster, then gripped its barrel and slowly laid it on the floor in front of him. He kept his gaze on her face. "I just need a place to sleep tonight. What's your name? Mine's John."

She stared at him and said nothing.

"I'm pleased to meet you," he said, "whoever you are."

"I'm Scarlett," she said and looked down briefly at the gun.

"O.K.," he said. "Do you live here, Scarlett?"

The girl shook her head.

"Well, it looks like we're trespassers here together." Her expression turned skeptical and she raised the knife a few inches. "I'm not going to hurt you, Scarlett."

The redhead snorted and gave the man a frown. "That's what my neighbor told me," she said. "His name was John, too. He told me that he was going to protect me, but instead he drugged me, tied me down, kissed on me and felt me up." She held up the knife even higher. "He tried to rape me, too, but I got him first."

"That's a pushdagger, isn't it?" he asked. "I saw one once years ago when I was a police officer."

The girl frowned at him. "Is that supposed to make me trust you?"

The man shrugged. "It shouldn't. There are sociopaths in all walks of life."

"Sociopaths?"

He sighed and said, "People who lean towards being a criminal or acting in ways that satisfy themselves, but often hurt others."

Scarlett blinked and nodded slowly. "Oh."

"Why don't you take my pistol?" he asked her. "If it will make you feel more secure, that is."

"How do I know that you don't have another one on you?" she asked quickly.

He shrugged again and gave her a small smile. "I'm only licensed for that one," he said and nodded towards the weapon. "In my line of work, I don't try to flaunt the law."

"Oh? What's your 'line of work'?"

He smiled. "I'm a private investigator. I've found ten or fifteen pistols while doing my job in the last several years, and I turned in every one of them."

Scarlett picked up the pistol and looked at it briefly before looking at him again. "I guess that you'll be O.K. That doesn't mean that you can do anything to me, by the way."

"I understand that," he said.

She blinked. "I also cannot call you John," she said. "Too many fresh and bad memories and all."

"Call me by my middle name, then," he suggested. "I usually go by that in my family, since my dad's name is John, too."

"What's your middle name?" she asked.

He smiled at her again. "Roger," he said. "Now I have something to ask [i]you[/i], Scarlett. How old are you, fifteen?"

"I'm seventeen," she replied. "I'm a junior at Lawndale High School."

"Lawndale," he said, his expression thoughtful. "That's a suburb of Baltimore, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Are you familiar with it?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "Had a bad experience there. Where are your parents, Scarlett? How did you get caught out away from them at the wrong time?"

The redhead's face paled and her chin quivered. "They were...they were in Philadelphia yesterday morning." Then she turned and rushed out of the room.

Roger stood there awkwardly. Finally, he said to himself, "Oh, that was smooth, Roger." He looked towards the living room, where Scarlett had run. He heard her crying and muttered, "Dammit!" He cleared his throat and said loudly, "I'm sorry, Scarlett!"

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett sat on a recliner and cried as she thought about her parents. She held both the pistol and the pushdagger in her hands and listened to the man move around in the kitchen.

The girl realized then that she hadn't read _any_ of Roger's thoughts during their meeting and stared ahead in shock.

"_That happens sometimes, Scarlett," he dad had told her once when she was fourteen. "There will always be some whose minds or thoughts that you'll never be able to read."_

"_Are they bad guys, Dad?" she had asked then._

"_Oh, some may be," he replied. "Most, however, simply have naturally closed minds. It's a power - or gift - much like ours. Maybe a very powerful telepath could read them, but since I've never met one, I don't know. I should warn you, though, that you might find these people difficult to deal with."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because mind readers such as ourselves tend to use their telepathy like a crutch. The temptation to do so is way too strong to resist. Resistant people can be scary to deal with, because you don't control the situation." He gripped her arms. "You're a strong girl, Scarlett, so I have faith that you'll be able to deal with them."_

"_I hope so, Dad."_

As the girl reminisced, a head popped up over the arm of a nearby couch and she jumped in fright. Then she calmed down as she realized that it was just a cat.

The feline looked at the girl, then moved slowly towards her. The cat sniffed her left leg cautiously, then backed away when the girl tried to pet it.

"I won't hurt you," Scarlett said, repeating Roger's words to her. That thought made her shake her head. She pulled a coverlet off the back of the recliner, spread it out and covered herself with it. Then she pulled out the footrest and laid back. The cat watched her all the while.

"Why did your owners leave you here all alone?" the redhead asked as she tucked the covers around herself. She sniffled and wiped a tear from her left eye. "Looks like we're all alone in the world here, kittycat," she said and closed her eyes.

**oooooooooo**

In the kitchen, Roger found a large stockpot, a ten-pound bag of potatoes, several onions, three cans of Carnation creamer and some butter in the refrigerator. "Dinnertime, it shall be," he said and gathered all the items together.

He heard the girl talk to the cat in the living room. "Good luck catching her," he muttered as he began to wash the potatoes.

**oooooooooo**

At one point, Scarlett awoke to find the cat curled up on her lap, asleep. She absently petted the animal and wondered what Roger was fixing in the kitchen.

**oooooooooo**

"Scarlett?"

Hearing Roger's voice frightened her briefly, then she remembered him and calmed back down. Then she smelled the food and felt a rumble in her belly.

The cat suddenly became alert, looked towards the man, then jumped down and hid behind the couch.

"Hey, kid, food's done if you're hungry. I made enough for the both of us to enjoy."

The girl stretched and lowered the footrest. "What is it?" she asked as she uncovered herself and stood up. "It smells good."

"Potato soup," he said and smiled. "It's my gourmet speciality."

The teen looked at him silently for several seconds. "Not that I'm complaining, or anything, Roger, but why are you cooking for me?"

He shrugged. "My folks taught me that if there wasn't enough food for everyone, then there was food for no one. I try to live by that principle now."

"Sounds decent," she said.

The man sighed and blushed slightly. "I had to have that lesson beat into me, pretty much. When I was in my teens, I would eat a bowl of ice cream in front of my cousins and not offer them any. I got in enough trouble that I stopped doing that." He shook his head briefly and motioned for her to go into the kitchen. "Come along, now. Soup's hot and ready to eat."

**oooooooooo**

As Scarlett sat down with the soup and a can of Fizzy Gulp, she watched the cat as it looked in on them from the living room. "What do you know about the cat?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said and sat down himself, with his soup bowl and two cans of the same soft drink. "She won't let me near her. I know that her name's Smokey, because that was what was written on her food dish. I filled that up and gave her plenty of water."

The girl looked at him. "How do you know that Smokey's a she?"

He shrugged again. "An educated guess. Male cats don't make good indoor cats, usually."

"Are you from around here?" she asked.

Roger shook his head. "No, I live in the Leeville, Virginia area. I was in the area working on a case when everything fell apart."

"You said that you had a bad experience in Lawndale," she said. "What happened?"

"I made a mistake," Roger said and downed the soda. "I got involved with my client."

"What happened then?" Scarlett asked and ate a spoonful of soup.

The man grimaced briefly, then spoke. "Really, Rita and I were too far apart, age wise, but she didn't care and I..."

"Got horny?" the redhead asked, a smirk on her face.

He stared at her briefly, his expression shocked, then frowned. "I see that subtlety is your forte, Scarlett. Who writes your material? Dracula?"

The girl laughed. She was surprised that such a question would come out so soon after she had just met someone. _I can't describe it, but I feel safe with you._

Roger smiled at her then and nodded. "O.K., to be honest with you, yes, I got horny, and she sunk her claws in. Rita had hired me to track down her daughter's father in order to sue for massive back support. I found the bum and she had started proceedings against him. Part of my rewards was being with Rita. Then she had me do another job for her. That one nearly got me killed."

The girl got another spoonful, sniffed it slowly, then asked, "What did she have you do? Get involved with a gang, or something?" She ate the spoonful then and smiled from the taste.

He shook his head sadly. "She had me investigate her sisters."

Scarlett blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Rita was jealous of both of her sisters, though from what I could tell, she was the favored child of the family." He took a bite of the grilled cheese sandwich and ate quietly for a few seconds, then opened another soda and sipped it. "Well, when I investigated her sister from Lawndale..."

_I wonder if I know who this woman is? _she thought.

"...I got the attention of the senior partner of the law firm where she worked. He sent a man named Bruno after me."

"Uh, oh."

Roger laughed. "Uh, oh, is right," he said. "Bruno wanted to demonstrate to me how invasive chiropractic could be when it's performed by a sadist."

"What happened?" she asked.

"Oh, we came to an understanding...sort of. I ran like hell, and he let me go. Then I investigated the other sister." He sighed and shook his head. "I felt as if I had escaped from King Kong only to run up against Godzilla."

"Did they send someone like Bruno after you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "They sent someone worse. The sister was only supposed to be an art appraiser, but she has some mighty powerful guardian angels. He said that his name was George Williams and that he worked for the Art Institute in Chicago, but I can recognize an extremely professional hatchet man when I see one. By extremely professional, I mean government."

"Wow, you made a lot of new friends, didn't you?"

Roger snorted. "I hope they don't send me Christmas cards, you know what I mean? I'd be afraid that they'd blow up in my face."

_That is so interesting_, she thought and the two people then concentrated on their food.

As she ate the soup, Scarlett realized that this was the first time she had felt relaxed and...normal...since Friday evening.

She looked at the man briefly and said, "This is good soup, Roger."

"Thank you, Scarlett," he replied.

The cat moved cautiously around the two to her food and water dish and did some dining of her own.

(To be continued...)


	10. Chapter 10

**10. Sorting Priorities**

After their meal, it was fully dark outside and Roger and Scarlett deposited the bowls in the kitchen sink. At that time, he looked out the window at the car and asked, "Is that your car? Or does it belong to your parents?"

She shook her head and blinked as she looked down. "It belonged to John," she said. "I took it from him when I k--, I mean, escaped from him."

The man looked at her and said, "Scarlett, if you really did kill someone who tried to rape you, I won't get you in trouble. You have nothing to worry about from me."

The redheaded teen blinked again and looked out the window. She finally said, "I'm just afraid that when things calm down, I'll get thrown in prison." Then she closed her eyes. "Or executed."

Roger snorted. "As far as I'm concerned, he got what he deserved. Just don't keep telling people that you killed someone. That will _always_ get you negative reactions from some people. Some idiots believe that you should let yourself be killed before you do harm. I'm not one of those people. Neither are you, right?"

Scarlett shook her head and gave him a small smile.

"Good. That's a plus in my book. Now, is that all your stuff I saw earlier in the car's back seat?"

She shook her head. "Um, no. A lot of it was John's. I never took the time to dump it out. But I have quite a bit of stuff, too."

He thought for several seconds, then said, "We should bring it in and go through it."

The girl frowned and looked at him. "Why? Are you going to see what you want?"

The man sighed and shook his head. "No, but think about this. If that car breaks down, are you going to be able to carry all of your stuff? My car broke down about five miles from here, but all I have is a briefcase to worry about. If I find something better to carry my stuff in, then I'll switch it, toss the briefcase aside and go on. Now, if my guess is right, you need to trim down all that stuff to just what you can carry and no more."

The teen looked at him and said, "That's easy for you to say, Roger. I have precious items out there. Memories to protect."

"Scarlett, I think of all my belongings back in Virginia. There's no way I'm going to risk my life going after any of it, either." He looked at her. "I've seen too many people who risked their lives to protect their 'stuff'. Some of them even died for it. If I'm going to die for something, it's sure not going to be for my laundry or some photo albums. It's just not worth it."

The girl simply looked at him, then finally said, "O.K., I see your point. But I'll need help to carry it all in, please."

Roger nodded and said, "Let's go." As they walked to the door, he added, "It does hurt to lose stuff, though. I will admit that. I had my stamp collection there. Twenty years of work on it and now I'll probably never see it again." He sighed and gave her a rueful smile. "I do understand, Scarlett. I really do."

She nodded.

**oooooooooo**

The boxes were spread out in the living room. Roger and Scarlett sat among them, while Smokey sniffed each one, curious about what was going on.

Scarlett looked over the box of food, while Roger opened one box of John's stuff.

He looked inside for several seconds, then glanced at the teen girl. Then he sighed and shook his head.

She noticed his actions and asked, "What?"

"At any time, did you happen to look over any of John's _stuff_?"

"No." The teen shook her head and asked, "Why?"

The man pulled a paperback book out and tossed it to her. She looked at the cover and gasped. The title of it was _Two Days of Terror_. The book's cover art showed a partially disrobed schoolgirl, who sat on a school desk with her hands bound behind her back and a man opening her legs.

A disgusted expression showed up on her face. "Shit."

"This box is full of books just like that one." Then he pulled a drawing tablet out and opened it. His eyes widened and he closed it. "O.K. This just went beyond weird."

Scarlett moved next to him and opened it back up. Her mouth dropped open and she closed it as well. Then she took the tablet from Roger's hands, sat it on the floor, then sat on top of it. "All that time I lived beside him, he did all this stuff, and I never knew."

"How long did you live beside him?" he asked.

"Two years," she said. "I was fifteen when we moved from Indiana. He was the first person we met when we arrived in Lawndale." She closed her eyes and covered her face in her hands. "The whole time, I was his fantasy."

"Apparently, he was stalking you the entire two years," Roger said. "Was he married?"

The teen nodded. "Yeah. Lisa was real beautiful, too, you know? A real pretty face, prettier than mine, in fact. She had a slim waist, rounded hips and big, um...you know, boobs?" He nodded. "I don't see how I could even compare to her in his mind. She was what my dad called a 'real knockout.'"

He shrugged. "Sounds like he wasn't satisfied." He stood up and stretched. "Even if he had gotten you, he wouldn't have been satisfied. People like that never are. I'll be right back." He left the room.

Scarlett pulled the tablet out from under her legs and opened it back up. The colored drawing showed a man that slightly resembled John Fleming. He was on a highway bridge over a flooded river and threw a naked redhead girl over the side.

She stared at the drawing and after several seconds, a tear ran from her right eye.

Smokey came up and rubbed against the girl's right hip. She closed the tablet, picked up the cat and hugged it.

**oooooooooo**

In the end, Scarlett's belongings were trimmed to some photo albums, a couple changes of clothing, a blanket and her dad's pillow. She refused to part with it. She also had her apricot preserves and most of the survival foods to eat if she couldn't find or buy anything else.

Roger found a bookbag for himself and sorted through his briefcase. He ended up dumping half of what he had and even took some of the MREs that Scarlett had brought. He also took one of her blankets.

John's stuff was put back in their boxes and placed back into the car. Roger told her that if they took the car later, they could trash it in a dumpster sometime later.

**oooooooooo**

A little later, Scarlett and Roger found some cocoa mix and made some hot chocolate to drink as they sorted her belongings.

He took the time to give her more of his background. "When I failed with Rita's assignment," he said, "she accused me of conspiring with her sisters against her. She was a beautiful woman, but very paranoid at the same time. I didn't want or need to deal with those kinds of issues, so I left her and went on my merry way."

He saw the teen's expression and added, "I don't mean to make that sound so cavalier, Scarlett, but Rita had some real problems that I couldn't help her with. She had some real self-esteem issues and needed some professional counseling."

The redhead shook her head and said, "I'm not judging you, Roger. I understand what you're saying."

He smiled at her. "I have to admit that my relationship with Rita was mostly physical. Good looks are a start, but if there's nothing else to go on from there, you're just wasting your time." He cleared his throat. "Well, on Saturday, I was near Mt. Airy, following a woman on behalf of a jealous husband. He had nothing to worry about, because his wife really was visiting a sick friend.

"I called him up and told him the good news, only to have him chew my ass off because he didn't believe me. Then he was cut off right when there was a flash from D.C." He gave Scarlett a small smile. "He worked at the State Department and was there when I called him."

She blinked and cleared her throat. "I was washing the dishes when it happened," she said. "Mom and Dad were...in Philadelphia to enjoy a day off together." She looked down and took a deep breath.

Roger looked at the teen and said, "I'm sorry for your loss, Scarlett."

She wiped her eyes and looked at him. "Thank you," she said. "I loved my parents and they loved me. I just don't know what I'm going to do without them."

He thought for several seconds, then asked, "Do you have any relatives that you can go to?"

A weak smile crossed her face and she nodded. "They're in Indiana. That's where I'm headed."

Roger blinked and looked at her. "That's a long way for a teenaged girl to drive by herself."

Scarlett frowned at him. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying that I can't do it?"

"Oh, I'm certain that you _can_ do it," he replied. "What I'm implying is that you _shouldn't_ do it. Scarlett, that's some five hundred miles away. A long way for a teen girl to drive even before Saturday. Now...I think it'll be a lot worse. Teen girls who are out alone will be very tempting targets. Add to that the fact that all the police forces within at least a hundred miles of a bombed city will be too busy to help if needed. I say that you should count on anarchy until they sort out what's happened."

The girl looked at him silently as he stood up and stretched. _What do you think I should do then? Stay here and let the authorities take care of me? No, thank you._

"Scarlett, it's almost ten o'clock," he said. "I think we should stop and get some sleep. There are three bedrooms in this house. Which one do you want to use?"

She blushed and bit her lower lip. _I thought you were about to suggest sharing a bed. I'm glad you didn't._

He held out his right hand and she took it. Then he helped her to her feet and they walked to one bedroom.

This room had the feminine touch of a girl at least twelve or thirteen years old. She looked at Roger and said, "I'll sleep in here."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I'll let you sleep in the master bedroom if you'd prefer it."

"No. I'll sleep in here."

"Very well," he said and nodded. "I'll make sure the doors are locked and go to bed myself. Good night, Scarlett."

"Good night, Roger."

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. Smokey was already up and had her head behind a curtain at the window by a small desk.

"I heard something," she whispered. "I know I did, and it wasn't the cat, either."

_--Hope there's a couple of teenaged girls in there. I need some pussy!--_

She gasped at the unfamiliar thought that hit her. Then the others joined in.

_--Beer! I want beer or whiskey. Hell, I'd even drink a wine cooler if they have one.--_

_--A girl wearing a dog collar. But first, a steak or some chicken._

_--...like this has some home-canned food, like some corn or peaches or even jelly.--_

_--Women! Maybe the farmer has a hot wife or an even hotter daughter.--_

_--Chocolate! I'd kill for a Snickers bar or some M&Ms right about now.--_

The redheaded girl hopped out of bed, still fully dressed. She moved to the bedroom door, pulled away a chair that she had propped against the doorknob and left the room.

She ran down the hall to the master bedroom, opened the door and rushed inside.

Roger was asleep, huddled under a thick comforter on one side of the bed. She quickly grabbed his left arm and shook him. "Roger!" she whispered, her voice panicked. "Wake up! Wake up!"

The man threw the comforter off his head and sat up. His white T-shirt stood out in the darkness. He blinked his eyes several times. "What?" he asked and looked at the girl in front of him. "Scarlett? What's wrong?"

Scarlett found herself shaking and fought to keep her voice steady. "There's a bunch of men outside!" she said, her voice fast and nervous. "At least five of them.

He was wide awake now, sighed and got out of bed.

The teen saw his bared legs and realized that he was in his underwear. She blushed and looked away as he grabbed his pants and put them on.

"Sorry about that," he muttered. "I can't sleep in my clothes too much. It irritates me." He held out his right hand. "My pistol?"

She handed him the weapon.

Roger smiled at her. "Stay calm, Scarlett. Maybe they're just after your neighbor's car."

"No!" she said and shook her head. "They want women, food and booze."

He moved towards the door and she followed him. Then he stopped and looked at her. "How do you know that?" he asked.

She blushed again and her chin quivered. "I just do, Roger! I just do!"

He looked at her for several seconds, then placed his left hand on her right shoulder. "Calm down. It'll be O.K. But now's the time for you to get your bug-out bag. Sling it over your back in case you have to run."

"What?" she asked. "What about you?"

The man smiled at her and said, "I'll hold them off so that you can get away."

"NO!"

"Don't argue with me, kid. I can take care of myself. But it'll be a lot easier if they don't even know that you're here."

Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them away. "What about Smokey?"

Roger shook his head, a sad expression on his face. "She's a housecat, Scarlett. I tried to put her outside when I first got here and I couldn't even get her near the open door." He touched the girl's arm and gave her a small smile. "She'll hide herself. Now, get your stuff and let's see what the deal is, huh?"

The teen put on the backpack and looked down as Roger led her through the darkened house to the kitchen.

"They're at the car," he whispered. "Better go down to the basement. You can get outside through the cellar door. If you have to, run to the woods and hide." He looked at her face and saw the tears run down her cheeks. "Oh, Scarlett..."

She sobbed and suddenly hugged him. "I'm scared for both you and Smokey!"

Roger returned her hug and whispered in her left ear, "I'll catch up with you if it gets bad. Smokey will hide, so don't worry about her."

They broke the hug and moved to the basement stairs. He whispered, "Wait at the door, and be careful."

"Thank you, Roger. I'm glad I met you."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad that we met, too, Scarlett."

"You promise that you'll catch up with me later?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Now go downstairs and wait."

**oooooooooo**

She couldn't "hear" the men's thoughts while she was in the basement, but she could hear their laughter as they broke the windows.

As quiet as she could, Scarlett moved to the cellar door, opened it and climbed out into the back yard.

When she moved around a shed, a gunshot lit up the inside of the kitchen. She looked back at the house and whispered, "Roger?"

Three men moved into the backyard and she felt their thoughts assault her.

_--I know there's a pussy here somewhere. I just know it!--_

--Hey, little girl. Want some candy?--

_--Hope we find her soon. I'm tired of humping boys.--_

Scarlett stood still in the shadows and gasped when she heard John's car start up. _Oh, crap. They hotwired it._

A second gunshot made her jump and a man's voice yelled out, "There she is! Get her!"

_--Shit! That asshole nearly shot my nuts!--_

--Where are you at, jerk? I've got a .44 Magnum to answer you with.--

She ran out of the yard and into the woods followed by the men.

"Whoo, hoo! Hey, baby! I've got something for you!"

She ran further into the woods and fought to keep from panicking or tripping on tree roots and other hidden obstructions.

"Get her!"

She didn't look behind her, either, as she ran. She didn't have to, because she could still hear them come after her.

"Why do we always have to chase them?" one man complained.

"Shut up, Everett!" another said. "We've been over this before."

"You shut up, Joe! I hate running! I hate having to chase down girls and boys all the time!"

"That does it!"

Suddenly, a gunshot behind her made Scarlett cry out.

"Shit, Joe!" another man said. "Why'd you shoot him for?"

"I'm tired of hearing his whiny ass complain!" Joe said. "Lazy bastard always wanted us to do all the work, then demanded that he always goes first! Now he won't do that shit anymore!"

"Never mind that!" a fourth man said. "She's getting away!"

Scarlett managed to get far enough to leave her pursuers out of sight. But she could still hear them behind her.

After what seemed like an eternity, the teen came to a clearing and a darkened house that stood in the middle of it.

_--Wait till we get our hands on you, little girl! We're gonna--_

The redhead ran to the house and found the front door open, as if it had been kicked in. She rushed inside, shut the door behind her and stopped.

The house itself was clean - and totally empty of all furniture and belongings, except for a plastic stand on a countertop. It contained papers describing the property that had been left there by a local real estate company.

_Where do I hide? _she thought and rushed through the house in a rapid search.

The master bedroom had a large closet with two wooden sliding doors. She opened one door, stepped inside, then slid the door shut behind her.

The sudden darkness and silence had a calming effect on the girl, and she concentrated on relaxing.

Then she remembered seeing a string attached to an incandescent light bulb and reached around for it until she found it.

When she turned the light on, she was temporarily blinded. But after a couple of seconds, Scarlett saw a small alcove overhead built above the bedroom itself. Without another thought, she climbed up into it and laid down.

As she heard the men come into the house, she reached down and unscrewed the light bulb until she was in darkness again.

(To be continued...)


	11. Chapter 11

**11. The After-raid**

Scarlett laid in the darkened alcove and held the still warm light bulb to her chest. She struggled to control her breathing as her pursuers entered the house and began their search for her.

_--Man, she's so close, I can almost taste her right now!--_

The redhead suppressed a groan and blinked in the darkness. She looked past the overhang, but the closet itself was also dark.

"I hope there's a bed in here," one man's voice said from somewhere in the house.

"I'd settle for a mattress myself," another man said as the bedroom light came on.

Scarlett bit her lower lip and waited.

"Empty," the first man said.

"Well, let's check out the closet, anyway," the second man said. "A lot of stupid girls think they can hide behind their mommy's coats." He chuckled. "It sure is funny to see them kick and scream when they get dragged out from their hiding place."

She listened to the closet door open; she backed away from the overhang and shivered.

"Nothing."

"Turn on the light switch and look up."

The girl felt her mouth dry up as the light cord was pulled once, then several more times in succession.

"It ain't gonna turn on, no matter how many times you pulled the damned cord, idiot!" the second man said. "There ain't no light bulb in the socket."

_--Where are you, girl? I've got an itch that needs scratching right now.--_

"I ever tell you about the time three of us got a hold of a real estate agent?" the first man asked as they turned from the closet and moved towards the door.

"No."

The first man laughed. "That was a fun time. That dolled-up brunette was a real fighter. I tell you, I love it when they--"

Their voices faded, but Scarlett understood enough of the story - and the man's thoughts - to wince in disgust at what she learned.

"Hey, guys!" another man's voice yelled out. "The back door's unlocked and open! She ran out back into the woods again!"

The teen listened as all the men rushed out the back door and into the woods.

_--Her adrenaline oughtta really be pumping now! She's gonna be so sweet!--_

_Ew! _Scarlett closed her eyes, sighed in relief and waited.

**oooooooooo**

She didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been two hours, or just fifteen minutes. She just didn't know.

What she did know, however, was that she couldn't hear neither their voices nor their thoughts.

For some reason, she suddenly thought of tuna. She frowned, shook her head and sat up in the alcove.

Thoughts of pain then came to her from somewhere outside, mingled in with curses and prayers. Briefly confused, the teen then remembered the man shot by his fellow raider. _He's still alive._

Scarlett dropped her backpack to the floor below and waited for a couple of minutes. Then, when she still heard nothing, she jumped down as well.

She fell onto her left side on landing, then quickly got to her feet. She grabbed the backpack, slung it over her shoulders, then moved quickly back to the front door.

Tuna came to her mind again and she stopped on the front porch. _Why am I thinking of tuna? _She shook her head again, took a deep breath, then ran outside. She headed into the woods and moved back towards the other house.

As she moved, the thoughts of the injured raider became clearer and she heard a raspy groan.

_--Shit! Damned assholes! I'll get them for this!--_

Then a few seconds later, another thought reached her and she stopped.

_--Please, guys! Come back and help me! I'll be better next time. Please!--_

After a minute, the teen girl reached the raider. She stopped near his feet and looked down at him.

"Help me," he said, his voice weak, and his right arm up in an act of supplication.

"No," she said and ignored his outstretched arm.

"Please, help me!"

"Why should I?"

"It's the Christian thing to do."

Scarlett blinked and stared at him in astonishment. Even as he laid there and said what he did, she could sense his thoughts about her red hair, and then his memories of assaulting a redheaded woman and her boyfriend during a robbery in Hagerstown. "I'm surprised that you even know how to pronounce the word 'Christian'."

"Help me!"

She bent over and pulled a pistol out of the man's left jacket pocket. "Thank you," she said and shoved the weapon barrel first down in the front of her jeans. "It's a pity that you can't move left hand, huh? Did you break your arm?"

"Help me!"

The girl shook her head. "Did you help that redheaded woman and her boyfriend you beat up in Hagerstown?"

The man tried to back up. "Who..._what_ are you? How did you know..."

"What about all the children you helped to chase down and, let's see, you said 'hump'? Such a delicate word to describe such an ugly act."

"Please! I'll die out here if you don't help me!"

She snorted. "I'm counting on it. If for nothing else, then for that poor couple in Hagerstown and all those kids."

Suddenly, tuna came to Scarlett's mind again. _Oh, brother. _She moved away from the man. "Goodbye."

The man tried to move towards her, but he stopped and cried out in pain, then moaned. Finally, he cried out, "You can't leave me like this!"

She didn't even look back as she said, "Watch me."

The man laid there and cried.

"You deserve worse," she told him as she walked. "Be thankful I don't just shoot you, or kick you to death." Then she stopped and looked back at him once more. "Not even an hour ago, you were complaining about chasing me. What were you going to do when you caught me? Shake my hand...or help to gang-rape me?" She turned back around and continued on her way.

_--Tuna would be so good.--_

Scarlett blinked, but still walked on. _Why have I got tuna on the brain? With all that's happening, and my fears about Roger and Smokey, tuna should be the last thing on my mind right now._

As she closed in on the house, the teen slowed and became more alert. The first thing that she noticed was that John's car was gone. _Figures, _she thought and looked around slowly. Several of the windows in the house were broken and a curtain in the kitchen moved in the light breeze. _At least those jerks should enjoy John's dirty book stash._

Near a rose bush, the girl stopped, closed her eyes and concentrated. The man she left behind, the one called Everett, whimpered and his thoughts turned to the cold.

_It's cool, but not cold, _she thought, but shivered anyway.

_--Shit! It won't stop bleeding! I can't believe that he shot it off! I don't want to bleed to death. Please, God, help me!--_

"That wasn't Roger," she muttered, and looked behind her. "It wasn't that other guy, either." She looked out towards the north. "You're out there, somewhere, calling to God, and you probably ignored Him every time you had the chance."

_--I want tuna! I need tuna! Tuna is life!--_

"This is getting a little bit insane," she said and moved towards the house.

"Scarlett."

The teen jumped and turned to see Roger, who sat on the ground behind a shed. His pistol was in his right hand and his forehead was covered in blood.

"Roger! You're hurt!" She ran up to him and knelt beside him.

He smiled briefly, then winced from the pain of that. "I know that." He looked at her. "I'm glad to see that you got away from those punks. I was worried when the bulk of them went after you."

She looked at his injury and swallowed hard. "You wait here! I'll go back in the house and get something to bandage you!"

"We have to get out of here, Scarlett," he said and looked at the pistol tucked in her pants. "They'll probably come back when they don't find you."

She stood up and said, "I'll hurry up, then." As she moved away from him, he called her name again. She turned and looked at him.

"There are two bodies in the house," he said and wiped some blood off his eyebrows with his left hand. "One's in the kitchen, and the other's in the front entryway.

"There's a third back there in the woods," she said and motioned towards the way she had first run off. "Then, there's another one somewhere to the north of us. He's bleeding to death, cause you shot something of his off."

Roger blinked and looked at her. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

He took a deep breath as he looked at her. "Go on and hurry up. We need to scoot before they come back."

"I'll be right back," she said and smiled at him.

_--Tuna! Tuna! Tuna!--_

Scarlett frowned and looked around carefully. _O.K., those thought patterns don't match those of the raiders and I can't read Roger. So, whose thoughts are they?_

She jogged to the kitchen door, which had been partly kicked in. A piece of blue jean material hung from the splintered wood near the door handle. She moved inside and looked around.

The first body was on its back near the refrigerator. His eyes were open and a bullet hole was in the middle of his forehead. "Good shot, Roger," she muttered as she winced at the sight. Then she moved around the body.

She stepped into the bathroom and opened a cabinet. After a brief search, she grabbed a handful of folded-up washcloths and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, then left for the pantry.

Inside the darkened room, she saw Smokey and stopped. The cat sat on a shelf at her chest level and batted at a can of tuna.

_--I want tuna! Give me tuna!--_

Scarlett sighed and asked. "Was that you? Are you wanting tuna, girl?"

_--Yes! Give me tuna!--_

The teen looked around and grabbed a quart bottle of water from an upper shelf. "Wait. I need to help Roger out first."

_--But I need tuna.--_

The redhead moved her face close to the cat's and the feline sniffed at her briefly. Their noses nearly touched. "Roger is hurt and I have to help him before I feed you tuna. You wait here and I'll give you tuna. O.K.?"

_--What if those men come back?--_

"I don't know. I don't think they will come back. Just wait here for me."

She moved back around the dead man and went outside.

Roger watched her as she knelt beside him again. She wet down on washcloth and wiped at his forehead, which made him wince. "I have a question for you, young lady."

She took another washcloth and poured some alcohol on it. "What?" she asked and wiped his forehead then. When he gasped in pain, she added, "Sorry."

"Twice tonight, you've told me things that you shouldn't know at all. I want to know how.

The girl looked at his face for several seconds, then she looked down. "Not now. I have to take care of you and Smokey, then we'll get away." She grabbed his left hand and placed it on his forehead. "Hold that there and I'll look for some gauze or a towel."

"We can't take Smokey with us."

She stood up and moved back towards the house. "I'm not leaving her behind. I saw a cat carrier on the pantry floor and I'll make sure that she's calm for the trip."

To cut off any more discussion, the girl jogged back to the house. She went directly to the pantry, where Smokey waited at the tuna.

_--Finally! I want tuna!--_

The teen ignored the cat, grabbed the can of tuna and carried it back into the kitchen. She opened it, poured the contents on a plate and carried it back to the pantry. She sat it on the floor and gave the feline a small smile as she jumped to the floor and started eating. "Is there anything else, your Majesty?"

_--My water dish would be nice. I'm afraid to go to it with that man's body in there.--_

Scarlett brought in the water dish and sat it near the plate. "I'm still taking care of Roger. I will be back to take care of you, too, so just enjoy your meal."

_--This is good.--_

The girl walked back into the bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet for anything of use. "Nothing. Figures." She took a thin and faded yellow towel with her and went back outside towards the man.

As she walked, she concentrated and looked around. She no longer sensed Everett's thoughts and the thoughts of the man to the north consisted of prayers to God begging for help.

Roger watched the girl approach him and sat in silence as she tied the towel onto his forehead.

"Have you got an idea of where we can go?" she asked him.

"Not really," he admitted. He looked down. "I kinda hoped that nobody would bother us and we'd just leave after resting the night, you know. What about you?"

Scarlett looked back up the road towards the direction she had come from. "There was a church about a mile up the road. I think we should stay in the garage here tonight, then go to the church tomorrow morning." She looked at him. "How does that sound?"

He nodded. "O.K. I'll take your word for it."

She moved back towards the house. "I'll tell Smokey what we're doing and then we'll go in the garage."

He laughed briefly. "She's a cat! She won't understand you."

"Yes, she will."

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett found several sets of keys set up inside a small framed picture in the kitchen. The picture itself looked as if it had been made as a shop class project and reminded her of something similar that Kristy had made the year before in woodworking class. She took all the keys.

It took the girl only a minute and five tries to find the key needed to get them inside the garage. She helped the man to his feet and they walked inside together.

"You don't need to do this," he said. "I'm not an invalid."

"Shhh!" she said. "Let me help you." She saw an old love seat in a corner near a television in the corner and guided him towards it.

She sat him down on the seat and looked around. Most of the space was taken up by rummage sale items set up on tables. The love seat and the TV themselves had price tags on them. She grabbed a folded blanket, opened it up and spread it out on the man. Then she sat beside him and spread the blanket over herself as well.

Roger looked at the girl as she snuggled up beside him. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "You were afraid of me earlier."

The teen laid her head on his upper left arm. "You risked your life tonight just to protect me," she said. "I'm sure of it."

He blinked and adjusted himself to relax. The girl adjusted herself as well. "Good night, Scarlett."

"Good night, Roger." She moved her hands to her belly and closed her eyes. "Thank you."

"Thank you, too."


	12. Chapter 12

**12. The Church**

Scarlett's sleep wasn't exactly comfortable; she wasn't used to sleeping on a couch, next to a man she had met not even twenty-four hours before.

The redhead opened her eyes, blinked several times and moved a lock of hair away from her eyes. She thought over the events she had been through and looked at the man who snored beside her.

His left hand rested on her right thigh.

_I have no idea if this is an innocent accident, or if you're 'testing' my reaction_, she thought. She gently moved his hand off of her and fought the impulse to stretch.

When she moved off the couch, she did so in a way to keep from disturbing him. However, one of her joints popped and Roger jumped in shock. _Dammit, _she thought, then said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

He looked at the girl as she stretched, then did likewise from his sitting position. "It's O.K. I needed to wake up, anyway."

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He gave her a small smile. "I have a headache. I need coffee, or simply the number of the truck that hit me last night."

"I have to go p...to the bathroom," she said. "I'm also going to check on Smokey and make sure she's O.K. I think she's dreaming. Do you need anything?"

"They had coffee last night before those jackasses showed up," he said and stood up. He stretched again and yawned loudly. "I'll come up in a few minutes and, if it's still there, I'll make us a pot of it. You take care of that fur-butt queen."

Scarlett raised her eyebrows. "Fur-butt queen?"

He smiled at her. "I grew up around cats, and every one of them acted as if they ruled the world."

"I'll be there when you get there."

"Be careful," he said. "The raiders could have returned."

She concentrated briefly, then shook her head. "No, they aren't."

Roger looked at her silently, and when she stepped outside, he sighed. "How do you know they aren't, kid?"

**oooooooooo**

"We can't stay here," Roger said in the kitchen as he drank a cup of coffee and ate a cold strawberry toaster pastry. "Owners are bound to return sometime and just finding the bodies is going to make them freak out. If we happen to be here when that happens, it'll be worse."

Scarlett held a steaming cup in both of her hands and sat on the floor near Smokey as the cat ate dried cat food out of the dish. "I agree," she said. "That church down the road isn't too far. I just need to explain it to Smokey what we're all going to do."

"Yeah, say your goodbyes to her, even though she'll forget us within a day."

The teen looked up at the man and frowned. "What do you mean, 'say your goodbyes'?"

Roger blinked and shook his head. "We can't take her with us, Scarlett. She'll be scared and be a hell of a lot more trouble than she's worth. Besides, her owners will be upset when she's not here."

"Her owners abandoned her! She could have starved to death! As far as I'm concerned, they forfeited any rights to her." She stood up and moved near him. "We are not leaving her behind."

"Very well," he said. "You can carry the cat carrier. Don't blame me when she goes beserk, though."

The teen looked down at Smokey and said, "You won't go beserk, will you, girl?"

The cat ate her food and didn't look up at either human.

**oooooooooo**

Roger watched in silence as Scarlett held the cat to her chest and talk to her in a soothing voice. He couldn't understand the words, but he wanted to roll his eyes.

But to his surprise, the cat didn't fight going in the carrier, nor did she protest when she was carried outside.

"I don't believe this," he said when he saw Scarlett walk up to him with a five-pound bag of cat food.

The girl looked at him with an almost pleading look on her face. "Please carry this for me, Roger." When he said nothing, she added, "Please?"

He took the cat food from the girl. "I must be nuts to do this."

She smiled at him in appreciation then. "No, you're a really nice man, Roger. You like Smokey, too. I know it."

"Let's get a move on, kid. I don't want to take a chance on those freaks coming back."

They walked away from the house.

**oooooooooo**

It took Roger and Scarlett (plus Smokey) more than a half hour of walking to reach the church. The building was set up off the curve in the road and back in the trees. A large white sign outside read, "Lindner Corner Community Church, founded 1817."

"Where's the community?" Scarlett asked and looked around. "All I see is a home down the road."

"Probably used to be one here decades ago," Roger said and squinted his eyes as he looked at the church. "We're being watched. Old man with a shotgun near the main doors. A woman with a rifle in the bell tower...I think."

"Should we stop there?" the teen asked. "These people may not be comfortable with me."

"Why wouldn't they be?" he asked back.

"Look at me, Roger. I'm a goth chick. I wear dark makeup and an ankh. They'll probably think I want to sleep with the devil, or something other idiotic thing."

The man smiled at the girl, but he raised his eyebrows at her comment. "Well, I'd like to take it easy today, just in case I do have a concussion," he said. "Let's be friendly and maybe they'll be friendly back."

As they moved towards the church's front stairway and main doors, the armed old man stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of them. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Roger stepped forward. "I was injured by raiders last night. If it's all right with you folks, we'd like to stay a night or two to make sure the injury isn't serious, then move on." When the old man said nothing, he added, "Scarlett and I can help out around here to sort of pay our way."

The woman leaned out of the bell tower and the two looked up at her. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties. "Are you two married?" she asked.

"Oh, brother," Scarlett muttered and looked down.

"Shhh," he whispered, then shook his head and answered the woman. "No, ma'am. We just kind of found each other, and are sticking together for safety."

"Roger got hurt while protecting me from the raiders!" Scarlett looked up and said as she stepped up beside him. "I put a bandage on his forehead, but I'm not sure if he's O.K."

Roger looked at his younger friend. "Oh, really?" he asked.

The teen smiled at him. "Sorry about how that sounded."

The old man waved them up and said, "Come on in. Get off your feet and we'll look at your injury."

"What about my cat?" Scarlett asked.

"Bring her in, too," the woman said. "House pets need protection and company, too."

The old man led them inside then.

**oooooooooo**

The church consisted of eight members, ranging in age from forty-seven to ninety, led by Pastor Dean Barlow. Roger and Scarlett were introduced to them in the sanctuary while his injury was being checked out.

The woman in the bell tower was the youngster of the group, and her name was Anne Huntington. She had ash-brown hair and wore a knee-length yellow dress. She looked at Scarlett for a long period of time, which made the teen uncomfortable.

_--You look like a whore with that dark face paint on, girl.--_

Scarlett looked at the woman quickly and suppressed a wince. _Crap. Now, she's really going to think I'm satanic, or something. I better play it nice and polite._

"Where are your parents, Scarlett?" Anne asked.

The teen did wince then. "They're dead, ma'am," she said. "They were in Philadelphia on Saturday morning."

"Oh, dear," an elderly woman said and shook her head.

Rev. Barlow held up his hands. A bald man with a gray fringe of hair, he looked more like a stereotypical college professor than he did a church pastor. He stood up and said, "We need to pray, folks. Everyone bow your heads and close your eyes."

Scarlett saw that Roger followed the leads of the church members and looked down herself. She didn't close her eyes, though.

The man prayed aloud for their new visitors, for Scarlett's loss and for her parents in the even that they survived, and for their safe passage and general health. Finally, he finished his prayer with requests that both of them would become Christians."

_I don't believe like you people do, _the redhead thought. _Maybe it was a mistake to come here._

She jumped as one elderly man laid one of his hands on her back and said a prayer for her as well. She could only catch a word here and there, however.

**oooooooooo**

In the end, all eight prayed, one after another, until an hour passed.

While Scarlett busied herself with fixing up a litter box for Smokey, Roger was given two sleeping bags and led to the church basement by Rev. Barlow.

"We eat down here," the preacher told Roger as he led the visitor to one end of the large dining room.

There were five twin beds set up at that end. "It took us most of Saturday to get all of this set up," the preacher said. "But in times like this, it's better for us to be together for mutual worship, protection and company."

"It looks cozy," Roger said. He laid the sleeping bags on the floor at the foot of one bed.

"I'm sorry we don't have beds for you two," Dean said. "To be honest, we never expected other people to come here for shelter. Most of the ones who live around here either have no church, or they have their big fancy churches elsewhere. Either way, we were little more than a curiosity to them. We haven't had a new member in five years, at least." He chuckled, but it sounded sad. "That's why our youngest member is 47 years old."

"I'm sorry we put you folks to any inconvenience," Roger said.

The gray-haired man shook his head. "Really, despite our low attendance, we are still a _community_ church, and the purpose of such a church is to be there for those who need help. It's easy to forget that sometimes. Now, you do realize that your young friend is a pagan, don't you?"

Roger looked at the man and kept his expression neutral. "What do you mean by that?"

"She wears an ankh," the pastor said. "It's a symbol from ancient Egypt and their mythologies. Christians don't wear ankhs, they wear crosses." He smiled slightly. "Her dark makeup also marks her as what the young people call a 'goth'."

"I've never talked to her about her beliefs," Roger said. "We've been more concerned with avoiding raiders. It's none of my business, anyway, or anyone else's."

The pastor shook his head. "I disagree with you, Roger," he said. "All eight of us here are concerned with the state of both your soul, and Scarlett's, as well. We want you to come to a saving knowledge of the grace and love of Jesus Christ."

"But it's not required for either of us to stay here, is it?" Roger asked. "Because if it is, then I'll get Scarlett and we'll leave and take our chances alone."

Dean shook his head again. "No, salvation is not required for you two to stay here. But neither of you can fault us for being concerned with your souls."

Roger looked at him, then nodded slowly. "That's a decision that can't be rushed into," he said.

"I see." The older man looked at Roger for several seconds, disappointment evident in his features. Then he said in a quieter voice, "If you two are...romantically linked, I'd appreciate it if you didn't show it here."

The private investigator's face turned red. "This is a house of God, Reverend. I do have a certain amount of class. There are certain things that one just does not do."

"You'd be surprised at those who would do it," Dean said. "We had a couple from Philadelphia break into our church once and use the altar as their marital bed."

Roger's expression showed his shock. "How did you find out about it?"

"They filmed it, but left the film behind. We turned the film over to the state police, who caught them at a Lutheran church in the next county." He shook his head. "Apparently, they had a goal to 'consecrate' every church they could with their lovemaking."

"Did you prosecute them?"

Dean nodded. "For the breaking and entering. They didn't steal anything, and did no other damage. I prayed for them and it could have been a whole lot worse."

"How so?"

"It could have been a rape or a child molestation instead. They were a married couple who just happen to have a certainly odd 'kick'. Now, I'm sixty-seven years old and one thing that God has taught me in my years as a pastor is that it never pays to get angry or stressed out about a lot of things. A lot of it just isn't that important."

"So, does having someone like Scarlett here bother you?"

Dean shook his head. "No. Look, I wasn't trying to imply that you two were intimate."

"I just met her yesterday, Rev. Barlow. She's a nice kid trying to get to her family. I'm not trying to get laid, I'm just keeping her safe."

"She's also a very young and a very pretty girl. Be careful about how you treat her. She may misread any signals you give her into something that they aren't."

Roger held in his sigh and simply nodded. "Thank you for your concern. We'll hopefully be out of your folks hair in the next day or two."

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett looked at Roger as he sat down beside her on the couch. "I think I stand out like a sore thumb, you know?" she said and absently rubbed on the cat between them.

"You're the only teenager here," he said and smiled at her, "and I'm the next youngest."

"You know what I mean, Roger. These people think I'm some sort of devil worshipper. A couple of them even think that the only reason I have Smokey here is for some future sacrifice."

Roger looked around the room, then at the teen. He whispered, "I think I've finally figured you out, Scarlett."

The girl tensed.

"I've thought about it ever since you _knew _what those men wanted, plus how you calmed Smokey down like you did."

She closed her eyes and fought to keep from shaking.

"You're a mind reader."

She said nothing.

"At one time I would have laughed at that, but now, I don't think so. You know some things that you shouldn't."

The teen realized suddenly realized that she was holding her breath and took several breaths as her arms shivered. "Are you going to leave me here?" she asked, her voice quiet, and weak.

The man touched her left shoulder and she looked up at him. "Why don't you tell me what I'm thinking right now? You'll have your answer."

Her lips quivered and she looked away from him. "I can't."

"You mean that you won't."

She shook her head quickly. "I mean that I can't read _you_!" she said. "Ever since I met you, your mind, your thoughts, they're a blank slate to me. I could read those raiders and all their filthy thoughts. I could read most of John's perverted fantasies about me. I can read these people here and their fears about me. I can even read Smokey's thoughts, though they concern mostly tuna, freedom, rest and play. But I can't read you." He said nothing and she closed her eyes again. "Thank you for your help in protecting me, Roger. But, I'll find my own way, if that's what you'd prefer."

He squeezed her shoulder gently and said, "If you don't mind, Scarlett, I want to stick with you."

She looked at his hand on her and felt the heat in her face as she blushed. "Why?"

He looked ahead and kept his hand on her shoulder. "Several reasons. It's not right to just abandon a kid in the middle of nowhere, plus I have absolutely nothing to do. I have no family to look for, and no home to return to." He looked at her and she returned his look. "You could say that I'm simply afloat. But the main reason I want to go with you is that you're good company. I like being with you."

Her blush deepened and she cleared her throat. "The fact that I'm 'some sort of pagan' doesn't bother you?"

"Should it?"

She shook her head and gave him a small smile. "I feel better now, Roger. I'm...thankful you want to be with me. Thank you."

"We'll stick around a couple of days, help out some, then leave. How's that sound to you?"

Scarlett nodded. "I can deal with that."

"They're going to witness to us, you especially." He gave her a cryptic smile. "But then again, you already know that, don't you, 'goth chick'?"

Her smiled widened. "I do."

The man stood up, briefly ran his hand through her hair and laughed, then walked off.

The redhead watched him as he walked, her smile fixed and in place.

(To be continued...)


	13. Chapter 13

**13. Nightmares**

A dish had been set up on the floor for Smokey, and the cat ate dried cat food near Scarlett's feet. She was content, and ate in silence as the humans inside the church ate together at the table.

The entire church company was at the meal, as were Scarlett and Roger, who sat across from each other. What a breakfast it was, too. Sausage gravy and biscuits, fried bacon, sausage and ham, cooked apricots and apples, not to mention plates full of fried eggs. Then, of course, there were pots of coffee, as well as two pitchers of juice and a pitcher of milk.

The array of choices temporarily stunned Scarlett and she watched silently as everyone else served themselves.

An elderly woman named Fiona smiled at Scarlett and said, "If you're a vegetarian, dear, then there is still plenty of food to eat. Go on and eat!"

That caused the teen to grab a few slices of bacon and put them on her plate. "I'm not a vegetarian," she replied, and smiled as well. "I'm just a bit overwhelmed by how much food you have." Then she ate part of one bacon slice.

"We believe in a hearty breakfast!" Rev. Barlow said and laughed. "With the ladies of this church, we are definitely guaranteed a very hearty breakfast." He laughed again, joined by most of the members.

"Amen, brother," one of the men said and most of them nodded.

The redhead then opened a biscuit on her plate, but instead of the sausage gravy, she grabbed the bowl of steaming apricots. She ladled a heaping serving of the hot fruit on the opened biscuit, then topped that with a slice of butter.

As the people ate, a discussion of the day's activities were planned out and discussed. Roger volunteered to fix a loose downspout on the church's northeast corner, and since he was the youngest and most fit male there, got the job.

Scarlett smiled from the taste of the hot apricots and laid her fork down on the plate. Then she stared at the napkin where her spoon and the butter knife still sat.

Her pushdagger lay beside the two pieces of silverware, and the teen's face went pale as she felt her front pocket in a panic.

The door to the stairway opened and three Asian men walked in the room. All three were dressed in uniforms of what was once called the North Vietnamese Army, and each carried an assault rifle, either of Russian or Chinese design.

"No," Scarlett muttered. Nobody else acknowledged the visitors, who approached the teen.

The redhead Goth grabbed the pushdagger, quickly fit it into her right fist and stood up to face the men. But all three faded from view and she became aware that everyone stared up at her, their faces registering shock and fear. Even Roger and Smokey seemed surprised and she blushed deeply under everyone's stares. "Uh..." she said and closed her eyes briefly.

Scarlett looked at her right fist and gasped at the blood that covered not only her hand, but also the dagger blade and her forearm.

Then she looked down at her chest and saw that she was naked from the waist up. Splatters of blood decorated her belly and breasts and she absently wiped blood off of her left cheek.

She looked at the other people, who still stared at her, then saw a man walk out of the shadows to a stop in front of her.

Her scream died in her throat as John Fleming looked at her through lifeless eyes and grabbed her right hand in both of his. Both hands were gray and felt like they were blocks of ice; she could feel the untrimmed nails dig into her skin as he gripped her.

"YOU'RE MINE!" he yelled.

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett Hawkins sat up in the sleeping bag and covered her face in her hands as she gagged in her terror.

The sound of snoring men from some of the beds reached her, and she saw Roger's back as he laid on his left side in his sleeping bag.

Smokey laid near the private detective's feet and stood up as she looked at the teen. She stretched and strolled over to the girl.

Scarlett laid back down and pulled the cat up to her chest. Tears ran from her eyes and she kissed the feline's head, then closed her eyes.

**oooooooooo**

At breakfast, Roger noticed his companion's pensive mood and sat down beside her. "What's up, Scarlett?" he asked, his voice low.

"I had a nightmare earlier," she said, her voice also low. "It was a bad one, and took place at breakfast."

"What about?"

The teen drank her fruit juice and looked at her plate. Most of her food remained untouched. "It was about John. He came here after me."

The man looked at her and gently touched her right shoulder. "I'm here with you, and nobody's going to hurt you." He squeezed her briefly and gave her a smile. "Go ahead and eat up. Keep up your strength and, maybe, you should talk it over with Rev. Barlow."

The girl looked at him quickly. "But I'm not a Christian!" she quickly whispered.

Roger sighed and nodded. "I know that, Scarlett. I know that. But sometimes, we convict ourselves for actions that really weren't wrong. Killing a rapist during an attack isn't wrong, from either a legal or moral standpoint...in my point of view. But you know that already, and still had a nightmare. Like it or not, a Christian preacher has leadership standing in a community, and in general throughout most of the United States. Maybe talking with him about it, or even getting advice, could help you to absolve any lingering guilt you might have."

Scarlett snorted and said, "I'll think about it."

He nodded again. "Good. Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

She looked at his forehead and reached up to touch his bandage. "How does your head feel?" she asked.

Roger smiled and sighed in relief. "Much, much better, thank you," he said. "I no longer have any headache, while the injury itself still hurts some."

The teen looked him in the eyes and said, "I'm glad. I don't have any medical experience, and I wouldn't know what to do if you got worse."

"Well, my vision isn't blurry, my head isn't throbbing, nor is it swelling. Right now, I feel as though I whacked my head on a doorjamb or an overhang."

"When should we leave?" she asked.

The man thought and said, "Let's try for tomorrow. Today, we can help out here, to give these good folks some payback for their hospitality."

As he turned back to his meal, the teen laid her right hand on his left forearm and gripped it briefly. When he looked into her face, she smiled at him. He smiled back.

**oooooooooo**

More than an hour after breakfast, Rev. Barlow caught up with Scarlett as she dusted and swept an upstairs section of the church.

He looked around and nodded in approval. "We appreciate you taking care of this up here," he said. "Since we've lost all of our younger attendees, this floor doesn't get used anymore."

The teen wiped the sweat off of her forehead and laid a dirty dusting cloth on an unused desk. "I can see that," she said.

"You look like someone with a lot on your mind," he said, getting to the subject of his visit.

The redhead looked at him, her eyes narrowed, and said nothing at first. Then, she asked, "Did Roger ask you to speak with me?"

The preacher shook his head. "Nope. But I did see you two whispering at breakfast, and you seemed somewhat disturbed by something." When he saw her start to protest, he raised his right hand. "When you deal with a congregation, you can sense certain things as they're happening. It doesn't make me psychic, by the way. It just means that I pay attention. Any good man of God should pay attention to his flock...and his visitors."

The girl looked at him for more than a minute as she decided on her course of action. Finally, she sat down on a metal chair set up on the outside of the desk and said, "Very well, then I'll tell you about it.. Something is bothering me, and I've told Roger about it. But I still feel...guilty over what happened."

The preacher unfolded another chair and sat down near her. "Go ahead," he said.

She looked at the floor and said, "The other day, a man tried to rape me, and I killed him. Roger said that I didn't do anything wrong, but I had a nightmare about this man last night. I dreamed that he came here after me."

Barlow looked at her for several seconds, then finally said, "Roger is right. You did do nothing wrong."

"I thought that one of the Ten Commandments is _Thou Shalt Not Kill_."

He nodded. "That's right, but in Ecclesiastes, chapter three, it is written that there is a time to kill, and a time to heal. This man who attacked you...was he someone you knew?"

The teen nodded. "My next-door neighbor. He rescued me from a bad situation and got me away from the fallout. When he got us someplace safe and secure, he made his intentions very plain to me."

"Well, I can tell you this," the preacher said. "This man, from just what you've told me, sounds as if he had planned to rape you all along. Even if the bombings had never happened, he would have tried to attack you at some time in the future. Was he married?"

She nodded.

"Then it's even worse. He was not only going to sin against you and your parents, but also his wife as well. In fact, even if he had succeeded, he would have probably killed you later on."

"I suspected that," she said.

Barlow nodded. "Guilt would have hit him, and your presence alone would have been enough to convict him. That is, if he had a conscience. It is written in _Proverbs _that the wicked flee, even when nobody pursues him. To put it bluntly, your attacker got his just desserts." He reached out and took the teen by the hands. "I'm going to pray for both you and Roger."

"I...I don't believe like the rest of you do."

"I understand that, Scarlett, and I will tell you that the love of Jesus is big enough for you. He is inviting both you and Roger to believe in Him and trust in Him."

"What if I reject that? Will you curse me...or us?"

He shook his head. "That's not how true Christianity works. I will still pray for you two, because no matter how you feel towards us or the Lord, we are to love and pray for you."

The teen swallowed and said, "I've had a Christian to tell me once that God hated me because I'm a...Goth. He said that he hated me, too, and that he hoped God would kill me."

Barlow frowned. "Then, I question the state of that so-called Christian's own soul. You cannot hate your fellow man...or woman...and not become the enemy of God. That _is _in the Bible. If that 'Christian' read his Bible the way he should have, he would know that. Remember this, Scarlett. Christians are warned about neither judging nor cursing others. Those who judge will find themselves being judged by their own standards, and for most people, that will not be a pretty sight. Curses, however, have a tendency to backfire on the person who places the curse. Now close your eyes, and I'll pray."

Scarlett did as he said and the man prayed for her deliverance from the bad dreams and the guilt. He also prayed for Roger's healing and that both might come to know and follow Jesus Christ.

Scarlett squirmed slightly and when the prayer was over, the man released her hands. "Thank you for your time," she said.

He smiled at her and asked, "Do you have anything else you want to talk about?"

She shook her head.

"Then I shall go check on Roger outside. We appreciate having someone of his youth and strength to help with the downspouts. Those things are very heavy." He moved to the stairway and walked down out of sight.

The teen reached up and briefly rubbed the ankh on her necklace, then grabbed the dusting cloth and moved to a set of bookshelves behind the desk.

**oooooooooo**

A light snow started falling after lunch, and those who were working outside came inside the church, fearing fallout.

Scarlett shivered at one window as she watched the flakes fall and turned as Roger stopped near her. "I heard one of the men say something about radiation being in the snow," she said. "Are we in danger?"

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "We've undoubtedly gotten some radiation from the bombings, but it's hard to tell how much. They don't have a Geiger counter or any kind of detection device here. We'll see how it is tomorrow, but I think we should head towards Taylorsville as soon as it's safe. The radio says that there is an organized refugee camp there. Maybe we can find out the level of background radiation, at least."

One elderly man looked at the two and said, "This snow came out of the west, so unless the area south of Pittsburgh got a lot of fallout, I'd say that there's no radiation in this. I just regret not buying a Geiger counter when I had the chance." He shrugged and sighed. "Even long before the Cold War ended, a lot of us forgot just how dangerous things _could_ get. Well, people will be living with the results of this long after every one of us are dead and gone."

Scarlett shivered again and looked back outside the window again.

Roger laid a hand on her right shoulder and she looked at him. He smiled at her, and she returned the smile.

**oooooooooo**

As it was, Scarlett, Roger and Smokey stayed with the church for two more days. While the snow melted the next day, there was enough mud and standing water about that most of the men felt that it was a risk to walk out in it.

She suffered no more nightmares and became more relaxed as a result. As it was, nothing particularly outstanding happened during the two days inside the church. Cleaning continued, with the two younger visitors going after the difficult and hard to reach places. Board games, such as checkers, Trouble and Aggravation filled the time, especially after the evening meal.

Rev. Barlow even held a daily sermonette and prayer, with a song, to start the days with, and Roger and Scarlett sat in on them.

"Do we really have to do this?" Scarlett asked in a whisper as she fought to keep from fidgeting in her seat. It was Tuesday morning and they were there at Roger's insistence.

Roger looked at the preacher, but whispered back at her and said, "We don't stand out like sore thumbs when we give a token participation." He glanced at her and smiled slightly. "Consider this a part of the payment for staying here."

She looked down at the closed hymnal in her lap and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and looked back at the preacher.

**oooooooooo**

The skies were still gray on the Wednesday morning as they prepared to set out from the church.

Scarlett felt a mixture of dread and relief at leaving. While nobody had said anything rude towards her (due to Rev. Barlow's influence, she had no doubt), she had still sensed some judgmental thoughts about her appearance and her possible beliefs. But from most of the members, she sensed a genuine concern, both for their safety and their souls.

Those who had feared for the cat's safety had been pleasantly surprised by how loving the girl had been towards the animal. Of course, the five-pound bag of cat food Roger carried helped in that regard.

Roger and Scarlett were fully loaded with their supplies and Smokey had been put back in the cat carrier. Each member shook their hands.

One of the elderly woman, Viola, even hugged Scarlett, to her embarrassment, and placed a Gideons New Testament in her jacket pocket. "I've placed the plan of salvation inside the back cover, dear," she told the teen. "Please, read it and don't put it off until it's too late."

The redhead could think of a number of snarky comebacks to use, but she sensed the genuine concern the woman felt for her and smiled shyly. "Thank you for your concern...and your prayers," she said politely. "Thank you especially for your hospitality. I'll never forget it."

"Take care of your cat," the woman said. "She obviously likes you."

Scarlett's smile widened and she glanced briefly at Smokey. "We're growing on each other."

The woman's expression took on a serious tone and she said, her voice nearly a whisper, "Be careful of being alone with Roger."

The teen blinked and said, "He risked his life to protect me from raiders, Viola."

The older woman nodded and looked at him. "He's still a man, dear, and men sometimes can't help themselves."

Scarlett almost smiled and thought, _What if _I _can't help myself, huh? _"He's a gallant gentleman." Then she chuckled. "That sounded so old-fashioned."

Viola smiled at her. "As well he should be. But just keep in mind that of the two of you, only you can get pregnant. No matter how good his intentions may be, the road to hell is paved with good intentions."

The girl felt the pushdagger in her pocket and said, "I will take care of myself."

Several feet away, Roger talked with Rev. Barlow and a few of the men. One man, a tall fellow who looked to be nearly ninety, said, "If you two are headed to Taylorsville, be careful about going into town from this direction."

"Why's that?" Roger asked.

"It's the nearest thing Taylorsville has to a red-light district. They have at least three bars real close together and a lot of the young hoods like to hang out there."

Rev. Barlow looked at the man and said, "From what Roger told me about their experiences before coming here, I think the young hoods are out roaming around." He glanced at Roger. "Be careful of folks you meet out there. Some of them will want to hurt you for fun. Some will really want to hurt Scarlett, especially since she is a young and pretty girl."

"That's right," one of the other men said to Roger. "I was a young punk once, and someone as pretty as your young lady friend is would have been a tempting target in times like these."

The other men looked at him in surprised and he continued, "I told you guys before that before I found Christ, I was not a nice man. I spent five years in prison back in the sixties. But all that is behind me."

The taller man patted his shoulder and said, "Amen to that, Carl." He looked at Roger then, and said, "If you two do end up going into Pennsylvania, I suggest that you avoid Hammersville altogether."

"Scarlett has family in Indiana," Roger said. "So we probably won't head that way. But, what's wrong with Hammersville?"

"My nephew lives near there and has told me all about it. If young Scarlett were to show up there, especially now, she wouldn't be safe. They're very judgmental, and a lot of them even consider us to be fallen brethren."

Carl shivered and said, "I've been there. Forgiveness isn't in their nature."

Finally, all the farewells had been said, and Rev. Barlow gathered the church's company around the two. Everyone closed their eyes and he started his prayer. "Dear Lord, we thank you the visit we had from Roger and Scarlett, and we pray for their safety as they go on their way and leave us. Keep them safe and well in the palm of Your hand. Let them not fall into evil and protect them from the radiation as well as from the criminals that are out there. May they find that Your way is the true way and be with them always. In Jesus' name we pray, amen."

"Amen," the assembled church members repeated.

**oooooooooo**

For the first fifteen minutes of the trip, neither person said anything, and Smokey fell asleep in the cat carrier.

Finally, Scarlett said, "I think I'll miss those people."

Roger glanced at her. "Not as bad as you first though, huh?"

She returned his glance and gave him a short laugh. "They don't think I'm a devil worshipper anymore, but they do think that I'm misguided. A couple of them wondered what kind of parents would let me go Goth."

He watched the wind blow her hair slightly and smiled at her. "They meant well, and I'm thankful that you didn't insult them for their prayers."

They walked on around a curve. "Prayers are powerful things," she said, "when done genuinely. I have more trust in _their _good intentions and _their_ prayers than I do many others."

Roger nodded. "The members of Lindner Corner Community Church are the real thing. A pity they're so small in number." He smiled and added, "I told you that they'd witness to you."

"Yeah, I know." They walked on. "Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"What'll happen to them?"

He blinked and took a deep breath. "It's better not to think about it."

"I want to know."

They walked on some more. "Very well," he said. "If order's not restored soon, I'd expect half of them to be dead within a year, eighteen months tops."

"What? Why?"

"Most of them are in their eighties, Scarlett. A couple of them in their nineties. That forty-seven-year-old woman, the one named Anne, she's going to have her hands full if they start getting sick. Plus, if they lose her...it'll be even worse."

She blinked and said, "I'm sorry I asked."

They walked on down the road.

(To be continued...)


	14. Chapter 14

**14. A Walk Through the Countryside**

Within fifteen minutes of starting their walk, Scarlett and Roger lost sight of the church or anyplace remotely familiar. The teen stopped briefly, looked back, then turned around and walked on ahead.

All she could see around was a part of the road itself and trees everywhere else. That made her feel more alone than she wanted and she moved slightly closer to Roger.

"Still thinking about them, huh?" he asked and smiled at her.

A small smile appeared on her face, then disappeared. "Were we right to leave them?" she asked as she looked down at the ground. "I'm not totally sure now."

He said nothing at first, then asked her, "Well, how would you have felt living there with them?"

The redhead swallowed and finally shook her head. "I don't think so. They were nice to us, you know, but I - we - didn't fit in there."

The man looked back for a second, then glanced ahead and shook his head. "I just hope things get back to normal soon," he said, "for their sake. Especially with the phone lines _and _the emergency services."

They walked on for several more feet, then Scarlett said, "Smokey? How are you doing, girl?"

Apparently being able to communicate with the human girl did a lot to calm the cat, for she was half asleep and yawned inside the cat carrier. _--Wake me up when we get somewhere.--_

"Scarlett?" Roger asked and the teen looked at him. "Not that I want to be rude or anything like that, but I don't think we should say much until we stop for rest, and then after that when we stop for the night."

She blinked and asked, "What do you mean 'for the night'? I thought that we'd be in Taylorsville by then."

"That's thirty-five miles away," he said and smiled. "I did a walkathon once back in '88. I walked twenty-three miles and was wiped out by the end of the day. And my route that day was pretty flat." He pointed ahead at the curved road, the trees and the uneven landscape. "Given the uneven lay of this land here, I'll be real happy if we make ten miles today."

The girl looked at her companion and frowned. "Where will we stay, then?" she asked.

He cringed and looked away from her face. "I...figured that we'd check on the churches between here and there."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, lovely."

"I'm sorry, Scarlett, but the churches would be the best bet for personal safety." He glanced at her. "A large gathering of people is generally a safer place to be in a crisis. Now, the reason I think we shouldn't say much is because our voices will carry. Someone could hear us before we hear them."

"We could whisper," she suggested, looked at him and kicked a pebble. "After all, I like talking with you."

The man smiled and looked at her briefly. "Thank you," he said. "I like talking with you, too. But even a stage whisper can be heard some distance away." He shook his head. "If we were talking, there could be some bad guys ahead who hear us and set up an ambush. I know that we're both armed, but I really don't want us to get into a gunfight if we can avoid it." He pointed at the now sleeping cat. "Besides, we'd freak _her_ out if we start shooting."

"O.K.," she said. "If I need to stop, I'll clear my throat, or something."

"I have a better idea," he said. "Touch my arm and give it a small squeeze. If I need to stop, as well, I'll do the same thing."

Scarlett reached over and touched his right forearm, then squeezed it. "Like that?" she asked and he nodded. "Good. Suppose we don't find a church by nightfall? What then?"

He smiled. "This area of the country is rather thick with small churches, Scarlett. Don't worry about _that_."

"What I'm worried about is coming across a group of 'believers' who would burn me at the stake," she said. "Or, more than likely, hang me. After all, some people in Lawndale believed that I was a witch, and Lawndale was a fairly modern community."

The private detective blinked as he remembered the Lindner Corner men warning him about Hammersville. "Are you a Wiccan?" he asked.

The teen shook her head. "No, I'm not anything, actually, though I do kinda lean towards the pagan lifestyle." She touched the ankh and rubbed it. "This, to me, means peace and harmony. But my worries are because I know that a lot of people who claim to follow Jesus would rather act like Moses when it comes to girls like me."

"I will not put you in that situation, Scarlett. I promise you that."

She nodded and smiled briefly. "Thank you, Roger."

Then the two walked on silently.

**oooooooooo**

At one point, the road went down a hill at a steep incline, crossed a culvert and then went up another hill. They stopped briefly and looked at it.

"Man, haven't they ever heard of bridges?" Scarlett frowned as she asked aloud.

Roger glanced at her. "Haven't you ever heard of taxes? This road is a chip-and-seal cheapo job and that culvert itself is cheaper than building a bridge connecting the two hills." He pointed at the other hill. "Let's get across that and take a breather off the road."

The two walked on ahead and she sighed. "I just hate walking up and down all the time like this," she complained. "I keep expecting to see Ms. Morris behind me at anytime."

"Ms. Morris?"

"My gym teacher at Lawndale." The teen grimaced. "She was a slave driver. Plus she used to watch us when we took showers."

"Oh?"

The teen nodded and blushed. "She claimed that she wanted to make sure we got ourselves clean," she said.

"Sounds like the girl's gym teacher my sister had in Virginia," he said. "Except she also liked to watch the boys in the shower, too. At least, that was the rumor."

Scarlett shuddered and looked at him. "I may have gotten clean, but feeling her gaze always made me feel dirty."

Roger looked at her briefly, then motioned to the side of the road. "Let's go in the woods here," he said. "We'll sit and take a break."

The two left the road, climbed over a ditch and moved into the woods.

**oooooooooo**

Five minutes later, the two were about a hundred yards off the road and sitting on a somewhat flat boulder that stuck out of the ground.

Smokey was let out of the carrier, but kept in the immediate area of Scarlett and the carrier itself. _--I'm scared.--_

"Stay around us," the teen told the cat. "You'll be safer around us, and we'll move on later."

Roger handed Scarlett a bottle of water and opened one for himself. He watched the girl as she drank some water, then looked away and smiled.

She felt his gaze and blushed. "What?" she asked. _I wish that I could read you, but I do get the feeling that you're 'interested.'_

He still smiled. "Nothing," he said. "Just trying to relax."

_Uh, huh. Right. Tell me another tall one_. "O.K.," she said. "Sure."

"Well, it _is_ cute watching you talk to Smokey like that. Then seeing her 'listen' to you."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Cute?"

He looked her in the eyes and nodded. "Yes. Cute. But I'm kinda glad that you can't read _my_ mind."

Scarlett's blush deepened and she swallowed nervously. "Roger, I have a question for you."

"Sure," he said.

"What if we do run into a gang out there? What do we do if we can't get away from them?"

He took a big drink of water and wiped his forehead off as he thought. "Be prepared to let Smokey out so that she can get away if we have to fight. That way, if we die, she'll at least have a chance to survive."

"I don't like to think about it, but I'm afraid to be unprepared, too, you know?"

Roger handed the girl a granola bar from his backpack, then opened one for himself. Then he handed her a small paper plate. "Give Smokey some cat food," he said. As he watched her do that, he continued, "Can you sense any other thoughts out there?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "So far, just Smokey's," she said. "But since I can't sense yours, and a lot of John's thoughts were somehow blocked, there have to others I can't read, either." She shook her head and closed her eyes. "Several days ago, all I worried about was whatever I had to deal with at school. Now, I'm afraid of dying all alone out here, and I miss my parents."

He touched her left shoulder and she looked back at him. "Why don't you tell me about your folks? I'd like to hear about them."

She poured some water in her hand and held it down for the cat to drink from. For several seconds, Smokey did drink from Scarlett's hand, then rubbed against her legs. _--Thank you.--_

"Anytime," the girl said and wiped the corner of her right eye. "My parents were named Conrad and Jenny Hawkins," she said. "They were married at least five years before I came along. I was born in Columbia City, Indiana. My dad had an office job in Fort Wayne, while my Mom worked part time at different jobs so that she could be there for me."

Roger nodded. "How did you end up in Maryland?"

She sighed and sat down beside him. "Dad got transferred to Baltimore a little more than two years ago." She looked at him sadly. "I really hated it at first. But then I met Kristy Barton and we became good friends. I'm glad I met her, you know, but if we had stayed in Indiana, Mom and Dad would still be alive." Tears ran freely from her eyes. "I wished that I had died with them."

"But you didn't," he said and shook his head, "and I really doubt that your folks would appreciate you saying that. Remember what I told you on Sunday night? That I'm glad that I had met you?"

She nodded.

"I wasn't lying. Scarlett, you're still alive and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you that way."

"Why?" she asked. "You don't know me, not really. I really don't know you that well, either. What's to keep you from abandoning me and Smokey if things get too bad out there?"

"I'd have to live with myself," he said. "I couldn't abandon you - either of you, actually, despite my misgivings about the cat. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not a coward. I'm a man who lives up to his responsibilities, and you are my responsibility right now."

"You make me sound like a child when you say that," she said, a frown on her face.

He shook his head. "You're not, but you still are, too." He reached out and took her right hand in his left. "I wasn't lying when I said that I like having you around me."

Scarlett looked at him, her face red again. Before she could respond, Roger kissed her lips briefly.

He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "If that...bothers you, I won't do it again."

The girl's response was to return his kiss and grip his hand tightly. Then more tears ran from her eyes and she whispered, her voice whiny, "I miss my Mom and Dad!"

She started crying and the man guided her face to his right shoulder. He held her securely as she cried and patted her back gently.

Smokey moved around her legs again, then strolled back into the cat carrier.

(To be continued...)


	15. Chapter 15

**15. Battle Cry**

As Scarlett's cries subsided, Roger held her gently and asked, his voice a whisper, "How are you holding up?"

The girl blinked and wiped her right eye, then her left. She looked up at his face. "Sometimes, I'm O.K. when I think about them," she whispered back. "Other times, I feel as though I want to die." She felt him tense up and she quickly added, "I'm not suicidal, Roger."

"We're new friends, Scarlett," he said and smiled at her. "I don't want to lose you just after a few days."

She sniffled and sat up, then laid her head on his shoulder. "It's just...it's just that I've lost a chunk of my life, my existence. I haven't had a chance to really mourn Mom and Dad. John didn't care. He didn't even care when we found out that Cleveland was bombed while his wife was there. All he cared about was getting to screw me, the bastard."

For nearly a minute, neither of them said anything. Then Roger kissed her left cheek and said, "The pain never really goes away, I can tell you that. It just dulls somewhat over time."

The teen pulled back from him and looked at him, surprise evident on her face. "Did you lose your parents, too?"

He looked at her, a sad expression on his face. "My dad died four years ago - complications from heart surgery. But Mom...Mom lives in Arlington." He closed his eyes. "I try not to think about it, but any nuke that hit D.C. would destroy Arlington as well. I just...hope it was fast and that she didn't suffer."

Scarlett blinked and swallowed. "No wonder you told me you were all alone in the world." She moved a lock of red hair away from her right eye. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed and looked down. "You were pretty stressed out when we first met. So was I, actually."

The girl frowned and looked at him skeptically. "You didn't seem stressed from what I remember."

A hint of a smile appeared on his face and he stroked the left side of her head. "A policeman has to think fast and keep his or her wits about them. I hid my stress." He pulled her into another embrace. "When we get away from the dangerous areas and into someplace a bit more...normal, we're going out for a dinner date. Someplace nice and fancy."

Scarlett turned her face and lightly kissed his hand. "That may be awhile."

He smiled fully then, and she did as well. "That's O.K. I'm patient." He looked down at Smokey, who watched them from the inside the cat carrier. "You ready to move on, Scarlett? I think that Smokey is."

Scarlett pulled away from him and knelt by the cat. "Have you relieved yourself, girl?" she asked.

Roger stood to one side and removed his jacket. Then he took off the shoulder holster, then scratched his shoulders and the top of his chest. The cat watched him, then looked at the girl.

_--Yes. You two can go ahead and mate. I will be fine.--_

The teen blushed and found herself at a sudden loss for words. _Thank God that Roger couldn't 'hear' that_. "We were just talking, Smokey. Nothing else."

The cat turned her head sideways slightly as she looked at Scarlett. _--Why are you humans so bothered about mating? All animals mate.--_

"Uhhh, we'll talk about it later." She stood back up.

_--You humans are strange. If it wasn't for cats and dogs, you wouldn't know what to do.--_

Roger gave the girl a bemused look. "So you really can communicate with her, huh?"

Her face was still red as she nodded. "Yes."

He stuffed the holster into his backpack and placed his pistol in his jacket pocket. "Obviously, whatever she 'told' you embarrassed you. What did she 'say'?"

Scarlett's face went even redder. "Nothing! Nothing at all!" She turned her back on him and put on her backpack, then picked up the cat carrier. "Let's go!"

He chuckled as he put his backpack on, too. "Sure thing, Scarlett. Sure thing."

**oooooooooo**

More than a half-hour later, the three arrived a auto service garage built near a curve in the road. A house had once stood in front of three former barns. A sign identified the business as "Michaels Auto Service" and listed a phone number as well as an address.

Several wrecked or obviously damaged vehicles were parked outside the barns and an old Ultra Cola vending machine stood near what appeared to be an entrance. It's display light blinked from an apparent bad light.

Roger stopped and Scarlett stopped beside him. "Let's check it out," he said. "Since you don't want to stay in another church, we can try this place."

"It doesn't look like much," she said, an uncertain look on her face.

"It'll have an office," he said. "That'll give us some small bit of comfort."

They moved to the door next to the vending machine and he turned the knob. The door opened and the girl stopped.

"What?" he asked.

"It seems...quiet."

He smiled. "I would hope so."

The girl blushed. "It's just...dark."

Roger reached in and flicked a light switch. Several fluorescent lights came on and he smiled at her. "After you."

The girl walked inside slowly and looked around.

The cat stretched and sneezed twice. Scarlett looked down at the carrier and asked, "You O.K., girl?"

The feline looked up at her and blinked.

Roger walked ahead and tried one door. It opened to an office occupied by a desk, a four-foot folding table with several chairs around it and several padded chairs scattered around the room. There was a computer on the desk and two filing cabinets at one side of the room. "Here we go," he said and ushered the girl and the cat inside. "We can spend the night here and then go our way tomorrow morning."

They walked inside and Scarlett set the cat carrier on the floor. "I'll let you out in a minute, Smokey."

Roger took off his backpack and then his jacket and tossed it to the side. He stretched and said, " That feels good."

Scarlett did likewise and said, "Yeah, it does." She moved up to him and they kissed briefly.

"Aw, isn't this cute?"

She broke the kiss and they turned to see three men in the doorway. The bigger of the three had no hair and held a pistol in his right hand. "Don't let us stop you," he said. "Go ahead and kiss and do whatever else you were going to do. We'll just wait until you're done. Then we'll introduce ourselves."

The man to his right, a skinnier man with long blond hair laughed and shook his head. "You tell 'em, Ace," he said and looked at Roger. "Why don't you grab her ass and give it a good squeeze when you kiss her."

The men laughed and the man called Ace smiled. "Skinny has a good idea, there, mister. It gets kind of cold in here at night, and we can all have a party to keep warm. Kiss her again, and do what he said."

"We...didn't know anyone else was here," Roger said.

"That's O.K.," Ace said. "You two are welcome to stay here with us. Go ahead and kiss her again. Grab her ass at the same time. Then take her shirt off."

"We'll just leave, thank you," Roger said and reached for the cat carrier.

"I don't think so," the man called Ace said as he pointed the pistol at the private detective's face. "It's impolite to leave before the party has had a chance to even start."

Roger and Scarlett stood still as the three men formed a semi-circle around them. The girl clamped her jaws tight to keep her teeth from chattering in her fright.

Ace kicked the cat carrier and Smokey let out a terrified screech as the carrier landed upside down several feet away.

"NO!" Scarlett cried out and moved towards the cat.

The gunman turned and aimed the pistol at the teen's face. "Stay right where you are, girlie. The cat isn't a part of this - but _you two _are."

Her chin quivered briefly and she blinked several times. _Why can't I read your thoughts? Why can't I even read Smokey's thoughts now? _She glanced at Roger, and saw the sweat that appeared on his forehead. _Why did we take our coats off - with our pistols still inside them?_

Skinny looked at Roger, then at Scarlett, then at Ace. "Flip a coin again, Ace?" he asked as he put his knife in its scabbard and dropped the nightstick onto the floor.

"Yeah, let's get it started." He nodded towards the girl. "Since little red riding hood here is a piece of tail, she'll be tails."

All three laughed, while the girl swallowed and looked at the floor. _This can't be happening to us!_

Smokey wailed from her confinement, while Roger stared at the gunman's weapon.

Skinny pulled a quarter out of his pants pocket and flipped the coin into the air. Then he quickly caught it and slapped it on his left forearm. He moved his hand and looked at it, then laughed and turned his gaze to Roger. "Heads," he said.

The other two men looked at the girl's companion then and Ace turned his weapon on the man. "Looks like you're going to be first," he said and motioned down with his pistol. "Skin out of those jeans and take off your panties, too." When Roger hesitated, he cocked the pistol. "Now."

When Roger unbuckled his belt, the third man, the one so far unnamed, looked at Scarlett and said, "Pay attention to what we do to your lover, girlie. Cause what we do to him is what we're gonna do to you." He moved up to the girl and added, "Why don't you take off your shirt? Get ready for your turn."

Scarlett backed up and turned slightly; her right hand moved into her pocket. At the same time, the man moved up to her and grabbed her shirt near the right sleeve.

"Come back here, little whore, and let's see your goodies!" He then pulled down hard and the T-shirt material ripped down from the shoulder.

The girl's hand gripped the pushdagger handle in her pocket and she felt a flash of heat go through her the same time she felt the sudden chill of her belly and chest being bared. Then she screamed.

_The three Vietnamese men were before her again and she moved to the attack. For some reason, she wore fatigues of a U.S. Army soldier, but the shirt was partly torn open. She ignored all that, however, as she fought to defend herself._

The sudden scream froze the four men, who watched as the girl yanked the pushdagger out of her pocket and swung her right arm towards her tormentor.

The man tried to move back, but the blade slashed across his chest and he cried out in pain. Then he tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor. As he fell, he hit his head on one of the chairs. He laid still on the floor.

_One of the soldiers went down under her attack and she moved after the second one._

Skinny grabbed the nightstick and rushed towards Scarlett. As she turned her attention towards him, he brought the nightstick down on her right hand. The girl let out a loud grunt and dropped her weapon, and the man swung the stick into her belly. She fell backwards.

_The second Vietnamese soldier kicked the weapon out of her hand and she fell back as he pressed his attack._

Roger had just opened his pants when the teen had screamed. With Ace's attention on the girl, he jumped at the man and landed a solid punch on the man's nose. At the same time, he knocked the pistol away and tackled him onto the floor.

The redhead landed on her right side and found herself facing a brick that had apparently been used as a doorstop. A growl escaped her lips as she grabbed it, jumped up to her feet and rushed towards Skinny. She held the brick tightly and used it as a bludgeon on the man.

_The third soldier was being fought by one of her comrades, so she turned her full attention to the soldier who had kicked her. He backed up slightly and she smacked the side of his head with a large rock._

Roger landed two more punches before Ace yanked a knife out of a scabbard and slashed it quickly across the private detective's left arm.

The sudden pain caused Roger to cry out and back off as Ace tried to slash him again. The knife barely missed his chest and he fell to his side.

The criminal rolled to his right and grabbed his pistol. He turned towards Roger and said, "Now, you're gonna get hurt real bad."

When Skinny fell to his side, the nightstick he held skittered across the floor. Scarlett panted and turned her attention to the other two men. She saw Roger on the floor and Ace cocked the pistol. With a scream of fury, she lifted the brick and ran towards them.

The gunman turned and his face went white as he saw the teen girl jump up in front of him, the brick in both of her hands. When she slammed it into his face, he dropped the pistol and fell to the floor. She went down with him and used the brick again and again.

_The final soldier fell with a cry of shock as she rammed the rock into his face again and again._

Roger watched in shock as Scarlett hit Ace repeatedly with the brick and got to his feet. His left forearm bled profusely and he clamped his right hand onto the injury. He looked at both Skinny and the man who had torn the girl's shirt. He moved up and kicked each man to check for any reaction.

Then he moved back to his jacket, groaned in frustration and pain as he released his arm and pulled his pistol out of his pocket. "Won't make that mistake again," he muttered and moved back to the two on the floor.

He cocked the pistol and aimed it at the man who had attacked Scarlett. Blood ran from the cut and dripped from his fingers. "'When in doubt, _kill_'" he quoted and fired a shot into the man's head.

Skinny jumped, opened his eyes and yelled, "NO! DON'T!"

Roger's second shot hit the man above his left eye. "Too damn late," he said.

Smokey's yowling protests reached him then and he looked at the upside down cat carrier.

Then he saw Scarlett. The teen was partly hunched over, the brick still in her right hand, and her knuckles white from the tight grip she held it with. What got his attention, however, was the look of fury on her face and Ace's bloody and mashed face.

He noticed that her right sleeve was still connected to her shirt by a strip of cloth about a quarter of an inch wide. Not only could he see her bra, he could see her heaving breaths as the berserker rage slowly left her. He could also see the blood that now decorated her shirt and arms.

"Scarlett?" he asked.

The teen whirled and jumped up at him and he moved back quickly. She stopped and dropped the brick. "Roger!" Then she ran up to him, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

The man looked uncertainly at the teen as she cried into his shirt, but he then wrapped his right arm around her and held her firmly. He held the pistol away from her back and looked around warily. Then he kissed the top of her head.

Blood still dripped from the fingers of his left hand. He kissed her again.

After a couple of minutes, Scarlett's cries died down and she pulled back from him. "Oh, no!" she said when she saw his arm. She looked around quickly for something to bandage him, then glanced down at her ruined T-shirt. She pulled her right arm out of the now useless sleeve, tore the material away from her shirt and said, "We'll use this as a bandage."

"Wait!" Roger said and pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket. "This is reasonably clean. I'll put it on the cut and you use the sleeve to tie it on. It'll be a better bandage that way, and maybe stop the bleeding as well."

He set the pistol on the desk and watched as the girl nervously tied the makeshift bandage on him. Then he glanced at the three bodies around them to see if they had moved.

Smokey let out another wail and when Scarlett finished with his injury, she moved to the cat carrier and set it upright. She then sat down, opened the carrier and said, "It's O.K., girl. You're safe. They won't hurt you again."

Roger watched as the cat came out into the girl's arms and then he looked at the men's bodies again. "Scarlett."

She looked at him.

"What just happened here?"

The girl blinked, looked away, and said, "We were attacked and defended ourselves."

"No," he said, "it wasn't as simple as that. _You_ went berserk on them. What I want to know is _Why_?"

The girl blushed and held the cat up to her face. For several seconds, she embraced Smokey and said nothing. Then she reached out and picked up the pushdagger. She released the cat, which moved cautiously around the girl and looked at the bodies on the floor.

She handed him the pushdagger and said, "There is something about this weapon that...does that to me. It's happened before."

He looked the funny-looking knife over and glanced back at her. "Oh? When?"

She looked down. "When John attacked me. I grabbed it to stop him and I suddenly saw three Asian men in front of me. I think they were from Vietnam, cause they reminded me of those _Missing in Action _movies that they play on cable TV. It's like they're trying to get me and I'm fighting them." She drew her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes. "The next thing I know, John's laying on the bed with multiple stab wounds and I'm all bloody."

Roger stood there and looked down at the girl. He said nothing as he looked at her.

She felt a cold chill sweep through her then and asked, "You think I'm some sort of crazy bitch, don't you?"

In response, he held out his right hand to her and she looked at it for a few seconds before taking it in her right hand. He pulled her to her feet and then pulled her into an embrace. "I'm...shit, I'm a mass of contradictions right now, Scarlett." He pulled back slightly and looked her in the face. "I was very nearly raped, which blows my mind."

"But you're also afraid of me, too," she said.

"A little, yes," he admitted, but still held onto her. "But you saved my life, too. You saved all three of us." He released her and moved to the roll of paper towels he saw on the desk. He tore off several sheets and said, "We need to clean off the blood on you and you need to change your shirt."

Roger found an emergency eye wash station and wet the towels down from that, then washed off the girl's arms and hands.

"You need to fix your pants," she said and looked him in the face. "I can see your underwear."

"I can see your bra, Scarlett," he said and tossed the soiled paper towels in a trashcan.

A small smile appeared on her face and she said, "I guess that if it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me, either."

He returned her smile and said, "We need to decide what to do. If we're going to stay here, we need to get _them_ out of here. Or we need to go somewhere else."

"I...I want to go somewhere else," she said. "Even a church. I don't think I could sleep here, anyway. Not after what's just happened to us."

Roger closed his pants, then buckled his belt around his waist. "While you change your shirt, I'll check these assholes for anything we can use."

The girl watched him silently as he searched the man who tore her shirt, then turned her back and pulled the ruined garment off. She laid it on the desk and then rummaged around inside her backpack for another top she could wear.

Nearly a minute later, the girl pulled on a clean black T-shirt and looked as her companion touched Ace's neck.

He glanced up at her. "This one's still alive," he said and stood up. He retrieved his pistol from off the desk and said, "Get Smokey and take her out of here." He cocked the pistol. "Neither of you need to see this."

Scarlett picked up the cat and said, "Time to get out of here, girl." She put the animal back into the carrier and they left the room.

_--I hate the sound those things make. It scares me.--_

"Sorry about that," the teen muttered and winced as the sound of a gunshot reached them. Then she heard a second shot and looked back quickly.

_--I HATE that sound!--_

_Me, too, girl. Me, too. _She turned back around and moved to the main garage.

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett waited in the garage as Roger brought her both her backpack and jacket, then went back into the office.

He returned with his jacket back on, and deposited his backpack near the cat carrier. Then he walked back into the office.

When he returned again, he had displayed what he had taken off the men. "One Ruger .44-Magnum pistol, a box with twenty-three shells for that pistol, two knives, one nightstick, maybe taken from a policeman..."

"That Skinny fellow could have been a policeman," Scarlett pointed out.

Roger frowned, but nodded. "It's possible, but I'd hate to admit it. I also took two lighters and seventy-six dollars in cash from them." He looked at her. "I don't know whether or not money will be worth much after everything that's happened, but in case it is, we'll have it on us." He put on the backpack, deposited the Ruger into his jacket pocket and slapped his left shoulder. "I put back on my shoulder holster. Until we get somewhere safer, we need to be...ready to fight, at a moment's notice."

He handed her one of the knives. "Does your pushdagger have something that can be clipped onto your pants?"

She nodded and said, "It also has some sort of shoulder holster so that it can be placed between my shoulder blades, though I don't know why there of all places."

Roger looked at her, then placed his hands on the back of his head. "Suppose you have someone who's got the drop on you and has you put your hands like this. Well, with that pushdagger placed at the top of your back and just under your shirt, you can access it for instant use." He gave her a wry smile and shook his head. "Given your apparent expertise with it, I'd say that you should have no problem with it."

"Do you think I'm some sort of crazy bitch?" she asked him again.

Finally, he shook his head and moved up to her. "No. I told you back at Lindner Corner that at one time, I wouldn't have believed in such things as mind reading." He held up the weapon and looked it over. "But you _can_ read thoughts. Plus this pushdagger apparently has some sort of energy, some psychic energy, that takes you over in times of stress." He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose and then her lips. "If I ever upset you, please, tell me. Don't grab the pushdagger if you're mad at me." He kissed her lips again, this time longer.

"Roger, there was something new this time," the girl said.

He blinked and said, "O.K. What?"

"I couldn't sense _any _of their thoughts."

He nodded. "I was going to ask you about that."

The girl backed away from him and waved her arms around briefly. "That's not all. When we were around them, I couldn't sense Smokey's thoughts, either."

The man looked at her, his expression slightly confused. "Wouldn't that be normal if the cat is resting?"

Scarlett shook her head quickly. "No. Even when Smokey has been resting, I can 'hear' her rhythm. It's subtle, but it's there. But when those men showed up, it all stopped...cold."

Roger shivered then and said, "Let's get out of here. I'll think on this as we walk and we'll discuss it when we settle down for the night."

When they stepped outside, the sun had just disappeared behind the tree tops and threw the entire area into shadows.

The man took a deep breath, nodded at the girl and they walked ahead.

**oooooooooo**

By dark, the three had arrived at a darkened country church set off the road more than a hundred feet.

Roger knocked on the front door several times, while Scarlett looked around nervously. "How are you doing, girl?" she asked.

_--I'm fine. I need to play some.--_

"Wait until we get inside," she said.

Roger walked quietly around the church and out of their sight.

Nearly five minutes, later, the front door opened from the inside and Scarlett jumped in fright. She swung around and saw Roger standing there.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to scare you. There's nobody here, it's quite warm and let's get settled."

Scarlett carried the cat carrier inside and Roger shut and locked the door behind them.

**oooooooooo**

Within an hour, Scarlett looked at Roger as he laid in his sleeping bag. She calmly opened the sleeping bag and moved up behind him.

"Scarlett?" he asked and turned slightly. "What are you doing?"

The teen said nothing as she spread her opened sleeping bag over them like a thick comforter and snuggled up to his back.

He turned around and looked at her in the semi-darkness of the office. "What's wrong?"

She wrapped him in an embrace and said, "I know how I feel about what happened...but how do _you_ feel?"

Roger sighed and kissed her left cheek. "I was scared...terrified. I thought that I had failed to protect you and myself...and even Smokey. I thought that I had gotten us all killed." His voice choked up and he clamped his mouth shut briefly. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was a careful man and nearly got you hurt."

To Scarlett's surprise, the man broke down. She guided his head to her shoulder and held onto him as he cried. "We're safe," she whispered to him. "We're safe. We're O.K."

He wrapped his arms around her and continued to cry into her shoulder.

(To be continued...)


	16. Chapter 16

**16. A Little More of a Walk**

Roger Taylor didn't know what time it was when he opened his eyes. What he did know was that it was pitch black inside the church office and that Scarlett Hawkins had him in a full body embrace as she slept against him.

He laid still as his body started reacting to hers and closed his eyes. Then he could smell the fragrance of her hair and he gently kissed the top of her head.

The situation brought back a memory from his teen years, when he stayed with his grandparents in North Carolina, and had to go to church with them. He remembered that everyone there hugged one another, and that he really liked getting hugs from one pretty, young woman in her twenties. That was because every time she hugged him, he got to feel her breasts press against him.

The memory made him smile, while at the same time, he briefly felt guilty that he liked the same thing about his companion's embrace.

Then he lightly tightened his hold on the girl and kissed the top of her head again. He felt a temptation to roll Scarlett onto her back, then to wake her up and start making out.

"_This is a house of God, Reverend. I do have a certain amount of class. There are certain things that one just does not do."_

He cracked a small smile as his words to Rev. Barlow replayed themselves in his mind. _Better not do that, not here at least. But I don't want to let you go, either._

Finally, he closed his eyes as he held her and eventually fell back asleep.

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett could hear Roger's light snores and blinked several times in the darkness. She could feel his body snug against hers and adjusted her face so that she could kiss his chin. _I feel so secure in your arms, _she thought and closed her eyes.

**oooooooooo**

Sometime after sunrise, Scarlett opened her eyes and looked at Roger as he smiled at her. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice groggy.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said and kissed her briefly. "How'd you sleep?"

The girl returned his kiss and closed her eyes again. "I'm not ready to get up, yet."

"It's almost eight o'clock," he said. "We need to get up, get ready and head on out. Hopefully, we can make it to Taylorsville by mid-afternoon."

The teen pulled the covers off herself and blushed when Roger watched. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I...liked our sleeping arrangements last night," he said.

The girl blushed and gave him a weak smile. "So did I," she said.

He reached out to her and helped her to her feet. Then he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her, a little harder this time. "I'd like to continue that, if that's O.K. with you."

She said nothing at first, and gripped his shoulders tightly. "Can I answer you later?" she asked.

A very brief look of disappointment appeared on his face, but he quickly dismissed it. "Sure. I don't want you to feel pressured by me, Scarlett. O.K.?"

She kissed him quickly and smiled. "Thank you. I'll get breakfast if you'll fix up our sleeping bags."

The two broke the hug and moved to their individual tasks. But as they moved apart, Scarlett reached out and quickly grabbed his hand.

Roger looked at their hands, then up at her face.

The kissed again, then moved back to their tasks.

**oooooooooo**

The two sat beside each other in a smaller version of the church sanctuary, with wooden pews set up around a small music stand in the front of the room.

"How in the world do people stay comfortable on these seats?" Scarlett said. "That's just one of the things I never understood about churches. Is the goal to be uncomfortable during the services?"

Roger gave the girl a wry smile and said, "Actually, for some churches, that _was _the goal. I heard one preacher put it like this: 'If you come out of church feeling good, you're doing it wrong.'"

She gave him a disgusted look. "Gee, what a great way to make Christianity appealing to people."

He shrugged. "I never bought that malarkey, myself. He went on and on during the service about how miserable you should feel at your inadequacy to be a Christian. Being miserable doesn't make you better at anything, in my opinion. It just opens you up to depression and all the grief that brings."

"Where did you hear that sermon?" she asked. "I didn't think you went to church."

He laughed and shook his head, then ate a bite of a powdered doughnut. "I don't go, but when I was fifteen, I spent the summer with my grandparents in North Carolina. They went to church three...four times a week. Every night when it was revival time. Well, that preacher was a visiting preacher. Living with them, I went, too. Whether I wanted to or not was not a concern."

"I can just imagine what he'd say about someone like me," she said.

Roger shrugged. "People like him, they're controllers. If they can get enough people feeling miserable all the time, then they've got 'em right where they want them. All the easier to fleece them and guilt them when they don't give enough. I tell you--"

"Meow!"

Both of them looked down at Smokey, who looked up at them in annoyance.

_--If you two are not going to mate, then at least feed me, please.--_

Scarlett blushed again and quickly got up. "Yes, your Highness, just wait a minute."

Roger noticed the girl's red face as she hurried about getting some water and dry cat food ready.

When she sat back down beside him, he asked, his voice quiet, "What did she say to you, Scarlett?"

"Nothing important! Nothing at all!" Her blush intensified.

He reached up and brushed the ever-present lock of hair away from her face. "Yes, she did, my dear," he said. "We spent the night in each other's arms. I think you can tell me what she said, because I really don't want to make the wrong guess."

The redhead closed her eyes. "She thinks we're going to mate...and that we're doing it all wrong."

Roger stroked the side of her face and she looked back up at him. "Animals live their lives just a little faster than we humans do," he said, moved forward and kissed her.

Then they finished their breakfast, as did the cat.

When the meal was over, Roger and Scarlett cleaned up their mess and deposited it in the nearest trash can. "I've thought over our situation," he said as they sat back down, "as well as what happened with your sudden..._interruption_...of powers yesterday."

"Uh, huh," Scarlett said and drank a sip of water. "I was about to ask you if you had any ideas about it."

"I woke up off and on, through the night," he said. He smiled at her and laid his right hand on her left shoulder. "I was very comfortable."

The girl blushed and briefly looked away. Then she moved towards his hand and kissed it.

"You can read most people, but you cannot read me at all. Is that right, Scarlett?"

The teen nodded. "Like I said before, it's as if you're a blank slate to me."

Roger chuckled. "That can be taken two different ways, you know."

She blinked. "You know what I mean!"

He held up his right hand. "Calm down. Yes, I do know what you mean. My mind is closed to you. It's as if I'm a _tabula rasa_, so to speak. It's fascinating to realize that you and I share certain...talents. A pity that I don't know more about _my_ apparent gift."

Scarlett shrugged and brushed aside a lock of hair. "Dad never understood that, either. He was...like me."

Roger rubbed her shoulder gently. "Tell me about how your powers worked with your neighbor, John."

The redhead shuddered, looked down and took a deep breath. "Most of the time we were together, I _could_ read his thoughts. Mainly, he had perverted fantasies about me, and about what he wanted to do to me, or he had dirty 'comments' about my body. But other times, it was as if he could close his mind to me, like shutting off a water faucet."

He briefly scratched the underside of his chin and then said, "Then when we encountered those thugs yesterday, you lost _all_ of your psychic powers, right?"

Scarlett nodded and glanced at him. "Yes, but Roger?"

The man looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

"Dad always said that we were 'sensitives' - not psychics."

Roger laughed and nodded. "That's a good way to put it. I like that name better, anyway. _Psychic _sounds too much like some _X-Files _bullshit. But now, we come to the _pièce de résistance _- the pushdagger. Something about that knife, or even about its previous owner, has the ability, the power, to override your own consciousness. You said that yesterday was the second time it happened to you?"

She nodded again. "That's right, but it only happened when I was in danger."

Roger looked at her for several seconds, then sighed. "Well, suppose that you're in a bad mood when you touch it? Say that I tick you off - it does happen in a relationship - and you happen to grab it? I really do not want to die of multiple stab wounds - or be eviscerated - or castrated."

The girl looked at her companion's face and asked, "Do you want me to give up the knife?"

He sighed and replied, "I don't think it would change things."

A confused look appeared on the redhead's face. "What do you mean?"

"That guy with the nightstick knocked the knife out of your hand right away - but you remained in a berserker rage and took both him and that Ace fellow out, then nearly got me. In fact, you only stopped when you suddenly recognized me. This is just an idea, a theory, so don't count this as fact. But I believe that whatever is...special...about that knife is already connected to you."

Scarlett blinked and stared at him, her face registering shock. "What if I...what if I can't stop the rage? What do we do then?"

Roger looked at her silently and shook his head. "I don't know," he said finally. "I just don't know. But I want you to try something. If we can stay somewhere alone again, I want you to go to sleep holding your knife in your hand."

She frowned. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

"Keep the blade in the sheath," he said. "My idea here is that maybe you'll dream about it...and its previous owner."

"Why would I want to do _that_?" she asked.

The man pulled the girl to him and embraced her in a hug. After a couple of seconds, she returned his hug and they held onto each other. Finally, he said, "Possibly, if you can understand it better, you might even be able to control its effects on you. That's my theory, at least."

She laid her head sideways on his shoulder. "What if I end up killing you while I'm in its control? Or Smokey? Or both of you?"

"I...don't think it'll happen that way, Scarlett." He kissed her left cheek, and when she moved her face slightly, he kissed her lips. "I don't think it'll happen that way."

_I hope that you're right, _she thought and said nothing.

"When we leave today," Roger added, "I want you to be alert for _any _thoughts out there. I'll be alert for _visible_ oddities or dangers. But if you suddenly sense somebody's thoughts, I want to know about it. The same is true if you suddenly stop sensing Smokey's 'rhythm'."

"How do I alert you if we're trying to be quiet out there?" she asked.

"Don't say anything, but grab me."

Scarlett smiled up at him and said, "O.K."

He returned her smile and said, "As long as you don't mind if I grab you."

The girl's response was to hug her companion.

**oooooooooo**

The three set out after eleven. Scarlett and Smokey waited outside as Roger locked the door that he had used to enter the church. "I wonder where the members are," the teen said to herself.

_--What are 'members'?"--_

Scarlett blinked and looked down at the cat carrier. "What I meant was the humans who came here to be together," she said. "The other church had people there. This one had nobody, but it was clean and warm."

_--It did not smell right.--_

Roger appeared then and walked up to them. The two humans kissed briefly, then walked towards the road in silence.

**oooooooooo**

A little more than an hour after they left the church, Scarlett suddenly stopped, grabbed Roger's right arm, and looked around carefully.

He leaned towards her and whispered, "What is it?"

She pointed to their right. "A man is somewhere over there," she whispered back. "He's hunting squirrels, but I think he heard us moving, cause he's looking and coming over this way."

Roger looked ahead and pointed at a large boulder set beside a curve in the road. "We'll run to that big rock and get behind it. Then, once we're over that next hill, we should be out of his range and any danger."

But, then the man appeared nearly a hundred yards to their right and held up his left hand. "Hey!" he yelled out.

Both of them looked at the man. He was a heavy man in his early-to-mid twenties, with short-cut dark hair, as well as a mustache and a long beard. His exposed forearms showed partly colored flame tattoos and he held what appeared to be a .410-gauge shotgun. He held the weapon just ahead of the trigger and guard, and aimed the barrel towards the ground in front of him.

"Y'all are scaring off the squirrels," he said, his voice calm and polite. "I'm trying to get me a mess of 'em for supper."

"Sorry about that," Roger said and gave him a polite smile. "We're headed for Taylorsville."

The man smiled back and laughed briefly. "You got awhile yet to go to get there. A patrol might just pick you up before you even get there."

"Police?" Scarlett asked.

The younger man shook his head. "Nope. Soldiers. A lot of 'em came in because we've had some raiders around." His smile widened as he looked at Scarlett. "You two can go to my place with me, if you want. I've still got a case or two of Bud, half a bottle of Crown Royal, and some chips and dip. We can have a party and get blasted."

Roger noticed that Scarlett lightly shook her head, so he said, "I'm sorry, but we're trying to get to family out west."

"Oh, well, too bad." The younger man shrugged, lifted his left hand again. "Be careful out there. Some of the people you may run into aren't nice." He briefly held up his shotgun. "I had to shoot one or two of them in the ass to scare 'em off."

He then turned around and disappeared back into the woods. As the sounds of his footsteps diminished , Scarlett and Roger went on their way.

After a minute passed, Roger glanced at his younger friend and asked, "So, what was on _his_ mind?"

Scarlett snorted and shook her head. "Partying, trying to get me away from you, planning which lines would get me into bed the fastest, and then sex - in that order." She sighed and glanced at him. "From what I could sense and read in his mind, he believes that he can sweet-talk me - or any woman - into doing whatever he wants."

The private detective chuckled. "Sounds like a lot of teenaged boys," he said.

She sighed again. "He's been with anywhere from fifteen to twenty different girls and women," she said. "Most of them just once. Once he gets a woman, he wants another one, and another one. He also hates working and prefers to party, hunt, lift weights and have sex." She shook her head. "Not exactly the way to build up a _loving_ relationship."

Roger looked at her, his expression a mixture of fascination and fear. "You'd make it real good as a policewoman or as an interrogator." He then grabbed her left hand and squeezed it briefly. "Or as a private investigator."

Scarlett blushed and smiled as they walked on.

**oooooooooo**

At a little after one, the couple stopped at a small clearing just off the road and out of sight of potential danger. Smokey was let out and scampered over the ground as both Roger and Scarlett ate a snack and drank some water.

"I don't know about you," he said as he swallowed his granola bar, "but I've about had it with snack foods. I want a real meal, like a steak or a casserole."

"Spaghetti and meatballs," she said and smiled, "or better yet, pizza."

The cat moved up to Scarlett's legs and rubbed against her.

_--I'm ready to eat now.--_

The girl's response was to lay out some dry cat food, then when the feline was ready, she poured some water in the palm of her left hand.

After another twenty minutes, the cat was put back into the carrier and the three went on their way.

Just when they had moved about fifty yards down the county road, the sound of a vehicle reached them and they stopped.

Scarlett turned to Roger and asked, "What do we do? Do we hide?"

"Can't you read their thoughts?" he asked.

"There's too many of them!" she said. "Whoever they are, they're very focused. They're ready to shoot to kill!" She blinked and then added, "They're military, Roger. One of them keeps thinking 'Semper Fi, Mac! Semper Fi.'"

"Marines," Roger said. "Let's step over on that rock. We'll wave when they pass us by." He smiled. "Maybe they can give us a ride to Taylorsville."

"We won't get into trouble?" she asked.

"I don't see why we would," he said. "We look like a couple out with their pet cat, trying to reach a refugee center."

Then the vehicle, an armored personnel carrier, appeared from behind a stand of trees and sped up towards them. The two waved at the driver, his front passenger, and a woman in camouflage at the machine gun above them, who all gawked at them

The vehicle braked to a halt just about ten to twelve feet past Roger and Scarlett.

The two watched as a side door opened. The first man stepped out, dressed in a business suit with jacket and tie, followed by two hefty and heavily armed Marines. The female Marine at the mounted machine gun glanced around carefully as well, her hands ready on her weapon. Roger muttered, "Oh, shit!", then moved quickly between the vehicle and Scarlett.

"What?" the teen asked. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The man in the business suit smiled and approached them. "Now, how about this?" he said. "Mr. Taylor, I never thought I'd ever see you again. Given your address in Leeville, I would have assumed that you died in the aftermath of the Washington bombing." He looked around Roger at Scarlett and then back at the girl's companion. "Kinda robbing the cradle this time, aren't you, Roger? I thought that you liked 'em a bit older than yourself."

The teen looked at the man with an irritated frown and then moved beside her companion. "Who is this guy, Roger?"

"Yes, Roger," the man said and winked at Scarlett. "You should introduce us."

The private detective looked at the man cautiously, then back at the girl. "Scarlett Hawkins, this is George Williams." He swallowed, nervousness obvious in his features. "At least, that's the name he gave me the last time I saw him."

The man introduced as George Williams held out his hand and Scarlett cautiously took it in hers. "Pleased to meet you."

"Uh...yeah," Scarlett said as the man gripped her hand firmly and shook it.

"Are you two headed towards Taylorsville?" Williams asked as he released her hand.

Roger said nothing, so Scarlett said, "Yes, we are."

Then the man's eyes narrowed as he looked her over, then glanced briefly at Roger. "How old are you, Scarlett? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

The girl frowned again. "I'm seventeen, but I turn eighteen in about four months."

"I see," the man said and nodded. "Why are you with Mr. Taylor instead of your parents?"

Scarlett's face went pale and her chin quivered. "My...parents were in Philadelphia last Saturday."

Williams blinked and said, "My condolences." He looked at Roger. "You're lucky. The military authorities take a dim view of grown men who romance young teens." A small smile appeared on his face. "Since my own daughter is eleven right now, _I _take and extremely dim view of it."

"Roger's not doing anything wrong!" the girl protested loudly. "We've been protecting each other since we met!"

"Have you two run into any danger out there?"

"No," Roger said quickly and shook his head.

Scarlett turned to him. "Roger!" She looked at Williams. "He was injured yesterday afternoon. A bad guy cut his arm when he and his friends attacked us."

The man turned towards the APC and yelled out, "DOC! We've got a patient for you."

A Navy corpsman, dressed just like the Marines, stepped outside and stopped beside Williams. "Yes, sir?" the young sailor said.

"Take your jacket off, Roger," Williams said. "Show the corpsman your injury, and we'll take care of it."

The private detective hesitated briefly, then removed his jacket. The Marines and the man in the business suit noted his shoulder holster, but looked as the makeshift bandage on his arm was removed.

The corpsman looked over the injury and turned to the civilian in charge. "He'll need some stitches, sir. I could do it here, if you'd like, but it'd be better if we could do it back at base."

"We'll do it at the base," Williams said. "Probably more sanitary to do it there, anyway." He looked at Roger and Scarlett. "Hop in. We'll give you two - and your little cat, too - a ride to Taylorsville."

When everyone got into the vehicle, Roger and Scarlett sat beside each other, and George Williams sat beside Roger.

"You don't look particularly happy to see me, Roger," the government employee said, a smile on his face.

"The last time we met, I thought you were going to kill me!" Roger said.

Williams laughed. "Well, it really wasn't _your_ fault," he said. "It was that blonde cougar you were shacking with who put you up to it." He looked at Scarlett, who watched him warily. "At least your taste has improved." He moved closer to the private detective. "I recommend that you do not lie to me, Roger. We're trying desperately to stabilize conditions here, and any info we can get about raiders, militias or breakaway nations will help us out immensely."

Roger looked at him and blinked. "Breakaway nations?" he asked.

The government employee nodded. "There have been seven, so far, since Black Saturday. In this area, that is."

"And what happens if we killed someone who attacked us?" Roger asked. "Do we get a lifetime vacation in an isolated spot?"

"No." The word was spoken quickly and Williams shook his head. "Until things improve, a lot of people _will _have to take the initiative and protect themselves. So, what's happened to you two? Give me some details here."

Roger sighed and looked down at the vehicles floor. "Scarlett and I met in a house several days ago and fought off some raiders the first night," he said. "Killed a few of them...I think."

"Four," Scarlett said and looked at the government man. "Then those three who attacked us yesterday. They're dead, too."

Williams nodded and leaned back slightly. "After you get treated in Taylorsville, I'll interview you both. For right now, relax and enjoy the ride." He closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest.

Scarlett watched him in silence, and looked at Roger. She didn't have to be a mind reader to see the fear in her companion. She took his right hand in her left, squeezed it and gave him a small smile. He returned her smile and looked back at the floor.

She looked at George Williams again. _So far, you 'seem' O.K. But I can't read you too well. It's almost as if you have some sort of 'static' shield blocking your mind. _She blinked. _I'm not so sure we should tell you everything._

The girl then picked up the cat carrier and held it to her midriff and chest. She closed her eyes as well and rocked slightly in her seat.

(To be continued...)


	17. Chapter 17

**17. Refugee Orientation**

"Well, here we are," George Williams said from his seat and pointed out the personnel carrier's front windshield. "Welcome to bedlam, otherwise known as Taylorsville."

Both Roger and Scarlett looked out the windshield at the same time. The teen gasped and gripped her companion's right hand tightly. He simply sighed and shook his head as he said, "Good Lord."

The vehicle rolled to a stop at the top of a hill and the government agent spoke quietly into a radio. Then he looked back at his guests. "I've always heard it said that San Jose is a thousand villages in search of a city," he said. "Well, Taylorsville is about ten thousand homes in search of a town."

Scarlett swallowed and shook her head in disbelief. Several years before, she had seen a documentary about the Woodstock concert. Looking at the scene before her eyes, she thought, _Compared to this, Woodstock was an orderly county fair._

Inside the cat carrier, Smokey made an odd sound, as if she were trying to talk. But the teen girl understood her clearly. _--Let me out! Let me out!--_

The girl ignored the cat and stared out the windshield.

"Where did all these people come from?" Roger asked.

"We have a few from the Philadelphia area," George said, "but virtually all the rest are from the Washington fallout zone itself. Nobody from Pittsburgh has made it here - yet."

Tents, makeshift shelters built out of plywood and tin scraps, and assorted vehicles of all shapes and sizes were set up haphazardly amongst the homes and buildings that made up Taylorsville.

"I didn't think that there'd be that many people here," Scarlett said, her voice reflecting her awe.

George looked at the teen. "There's at least two million people who have been displaced from eastern Maryland and Delaware alone. That's a lot of people to absorb...and move on out."

"What do you mean by 'move on out'?" she asked.

"Taylorsville is just a way station for refugees, at least until better and more permanent shelters can be set up," he said. "You could say that Taylorsville is giant triage station, as are many other places around the destroyed cities. Frederick, for instance, is crammed full of refugees right now, as are both Hagerstown and Westminster."

For a brief moment, the government agent's calm facade disappeared and he appeared tired. Then his features tightened up and he continued, "We _have_ to find new homes for these people. We really have no choice in the matter. After all, most of the fallout zone will never be habitable again, not within our lifetimes. We won't even be able to send troops into the bombed areas, because they'll be deadly for centuries." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Or millennia."

"What about the dead in Philadelphia and Washington?" she asked. "Will there be an effort to bury them?"

George looked quickly at the teen and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Hawkins," he said. "That's neither practical, nor safe. Besides, many of the dead were vaporized when the bombs exploded." He watched tears fill the redhead's eyes. "It will be a small comfort, I know, but if your parents really were in Philadelphia itself, the end came very fast for them." He looked away. "I'm sorry."

Before Scarlett could break down, Roger turned towards her and guided her face to his right shoulder. She released the cat carrier and wrapped her arms around Roger as she cried.

**********

Despite the heavily crowded state of the town, the streets were actually clear of obstructions, with what looked like the normal amount of parked cars one would find in a town of its size.

"Good traffic control," Roger said. "I expected a lot worse." Scarlett's face was still buried in his shoulder and his right hand gently stroked the back of her head.

A Marine captain, who sat on Roger's left side, turned towards him and said, "That is our doing. It makes helping these people a whole lot easier."

"How did the residents take having all these refugees show up?" Roger asked.

A smile appeared on the Marine's face and he chuckled. "They had up barricades when we showed up late on Black Saturday itself," he said. "Plus, they had already turned away about a hundred vehicles before we showed up. Well, it only took them twenty-seven minutes to dismantle all of the barricades."

"Really?" Roger asked.

"Yup. You'd be surprised just how motivated people become when several machine guns are aimed at them. The missile launchers we aimed at their barricades kinda helped in that regard, too."

"I can see that," Scarlett commented into Roger's shirt and sniffled.

As the vehicle moved slowly into the town, the teen pulled her face out of her companion's shoulder, wiped her eyes and looked around again. _So many people_, she thought and winced. _So many thoughts. Thank you, Dad, for showing me how to block it all out. I miss you and Mom so much._

Then the girl stopped herself and stared at a man outside in a food line. He was tall and skinny, with dark hair and a small beard on his chin. A guitar was slung over his back, and she could see the evidence of a pistol holster on his right hip. There were earrings in his left ear and some sort of tattoos were visible on his upper left arm. As he stood in the line, he spoke with a woman with dark and curly hair. Two little girls stood real close to the woman, both apparently scared.

"What's wrong?" Roger asked Scarlett.

"I've seen that guy outside before," she said and pointed. "He's from Lawndale."

"Considering the chaos with the evacuations, I'd be surprised if you didn't see more people you knew. Do you know him?"

She shook her head. "No. But, I went to school with his sister, though."

_--Let me out, please! I need to get out!--_

The teen picked up the carrier again and held it close. Smokey looked around anxiously and the girl smiled at her. "You just wait, O.K.? I'll let you out as soon as I can."

_--This scares me!--_

"It's O.K., girl. It's O.K."

The vehicle rolled to a stop outside a series of mobile home trailers set up in an elementary school parking lot.

"We're here," George Williams said as the door was opened and Marines moved out, one at a time.

Finally, Roger and Scarlett grabbed their belongings and stepped out with the government agent. They followed both George and two Marine corporals as they walked up to and into the trailer nearest them.

Inside what would normally be a living room, a large desk was set up. The desktop itself was clean, but an 8 x 10 photo showed George, a redheaded woman about his age and two children, one tow-headed boy of around seven years of age, and a redheaded girl, who looked to be ten or eleven. The boy held a puppy, and the girl held a cat.

A side desk had a middle-aged woman sitting behind it. She was keying information into a computer, and nodded at her boss briefly before turning back to her job. She, like George, wore a conservative business working suit, but she also had a government ID tag on a lanyard around her neck.

George looked at the secretary and asked, "Marie, any calls for me?"

"No, sir," the woman said, her eyes still on the monitor, "but I bet you have a lot of e-mails."

He laughed briefly, then took off his jacket and hung it on a coat tree near his desk. He looked at the two civilians and said, "Take off your coats and set your belongings on the floor." He pointed at an open door, where a young corpsman dressed in cammies waited. "Miss Hawkins, please follow that young corpsman into that room, where he will scan you for radiological contamination."

Scarlett held up the cat carrier and asked, "What about my cat?"

"I'll watch her," Roger said and took the carrier.

"Leave her inside the carrier, Roger," George said. "The corpsman will scan her after he finishes taking care of both of you."

The corpsman cleared his throat and said, "Sir, we're not supposed to waste time or food on pets. We're just supposed to euthanize them."

The redheaded teen frowned at the sailor and started to speak, but stopped when she saw the government agent tense up. She could sense a surge of fury flow through the man and backed away from him a few inches.

Roger noticed her reaction and saw the secretary shake her head and sigh. He tensed up himself.

When George spoke, his voice was calm and sounded slightly softer than it had earlier. "How many pets would you say that you've euthanized in the last two days, Doc?"

"Oh, about ten or twelve, sir," the corpsman said.

"I see," George said, crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Did you know that I countermanded that particular order two days ago?"

The corpsman nodded, and replied, "Yes, sir, but Chief Zimmer said that we weren't bound by your orders and told us to carry on with it."

George turned to the female Marine and said, "Angie, I want you to tell Sgt. Major Cawthorne that I want to see him NOW!"

"Yes, SIR!" The Marine left the trailer and could be seen moving at the double.

The corpsman realized then that he had made a terrible mistake. "Uh...sir?"

"Shut up," the agent said and the young sailor closed his mouth. "Bring your scanner out here and scan these two civilians AND their cat." He moved his face to an inch of the younger man's. "I outrank Chief Zimmer, you little shit, and if you ever disobey another order I give you, I will personally shoot you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

The corpsman shot to attention. "Yes, sir!"

"Now, do your job!"

The corpsman hurried to obey the government agent and George looked at his visitors. "You'll have to loosen your pants, and be prepared to have the probe go inside your clothing."

"Why?" Roger asked.

"If you are severely contaminated, then it will show up in your perspiration and around your buttocks."

"What if we were severely contaminated?" Scarlett asked.

George sighed. "We would recommend that you accept euthanasia, as a mercy. We've already had to euthanize probably a hundred and ten to a hundred and thirty people."

The corpsman returned with a Geiger counter and moved up to Roger. He looked at George warily, but said, "Sir, you need to loosen your pants, please."

"I know," he said and did so. He held up his jeans by the waist and waited.

Scarlett looked at the secretary, who ignored the exam, then at George. He was busy going through a filing cabinet and also ignored the exam. The two Marine corporals watched with detached and bored expressions on their faces.

The corpsman ran the probe very slowly up and down Roger's legs. Then he said, "Lower your pants slightly, sir."

Roger did so and Scarlett watched as the Navy sailor scanned first the front of Roger's underwear, then the back.

She then looked up at her companion's face and saw that he was watching her at the same time. She smiled at him.

His return smile was weak.

Smokey let out a loud meow from inside the carrier and batted the carrier door with one of her front paws. _--You said that you would let me out!--_

The redhead opened the carrier and the cat stretched as she stepped out in the open. _--That is much better!--_

"You can pull your pants back up, sir," the corpsman then said to Roger.

The private detective did so and buckled his belt. "O.K., what now?"

"Lift your shirt slightly, please."

Roger pulled his shirt up and the corpsman ran the probe over his belly, then his back.

"Roger?" Scarlett asked and he looked at her. "X, Y, Z, Roger, X, Y, Z."

The man blushed as he dropped his shirt and quickly zipped up his pants.

She laughed and smiled at him.

The corpsman then ran his probe over Roger's head and said, "You're clean, sir." Then he glanced at Scarlett. "Your turn's up, Miss."

The teen blushed, stood up and opened her jeans. As before, both George and the secretary looked away, while the Marines appeared bored.

"Lower your pants, please."

She exposed her panties and stared straight ahead as the probe was moved over the front of her underwear, then her backside. Then she looked at Roger.

"Hang in there, Scarlett," he said and smiled at her.

"O.K., miss, you can pull up your pants, but hold up your shirt slightly."

She quickly yanked up her jeans, buttoned them, then zipped them up. When she held up the shirt, she glanced at Roger again and stuck her tongue out at him.

His smile widened and he winked at her.

The corpsman finished that part of the scan and moved the probe to the girl's head. When he scanned that, she crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "Well?"

"You're clean, too, Miss."

George then turned back around and said, "Miss Hawkins, you can pick up your cat and this young man _will _scan her."

The corpsman turned to the government agent and said, "Sir, I was just following orders!"

George put his hands on his hips and said, "I am the equivalent of a Navy captain and you _still_ disobeyed me in order to obey a chief petty officer instead?"

"But you're a civilian, sir!"

"You're an idiot. I know for a damned fact that they teach you boys and girls at Great Lakes all about the chain of command and the order of rank."

The male Marine corporal coughed and spoke up, "Sir, he _is _a Navy sailor. They tend to be a little slack on that kind of stuff."

George snorted and said, "Apparently so, corporal. Apparently so."

The corpsman frowned at the two, but kept any responses to himself.

Scarlett moved up with Smokey in her arms. "O.K.," she said. "Go ahead and let's get this done."

As the cat was scanned, Sgt. Major Cawthorne returned with two armed Marines and an angry Navy chief who wore a khaki uniform.

The door opened and the chief stormed in. "What the hell do you want, Williams?" he asked, his voice angry. "I've got work to do! I don't have time for you or your idiotic bullshit!"

Two men in business suits stepped just inside the door and waited.

George pointed his right index finger at the non-commissioned officer. "I am in command of this rescue center, Zimmer!" he said, his voice angry. "You have been told that, and you were given orders that you disobeyed. You will show me the proper respect and when I tell you to do something, I damn well expect you to do as I tell you!"

"I report to Commander Engle and not to you, you son of a bitch!"

The government agent sighed and shook his head. "You know, I'm not even going to waste any more time on you. We're under martial law and your time is now up with me." He looked at the two men who had just came in. "Mister Jones, Mister Smith, get this bastard out of my sight. I never want to see him again."

The chief fought as he was handcuffed and drug out of the trailer. "Get your damned hands off of me." He looked at the sergeant major. "John! Get over here and help me!"

The Marine ignored the man, while the junior corpsman's right hand shook.

The door was shut behind the three and the chief's loud protests could still be heard as he was drug to a dark, four-door sedan and thrown in the back. The sergeant major then nodded at George and left as well.

"What's going to happen to him?" Roger asked.

George glanced at him. "I'd like to simply shoot him, but we need him and other dirt bags like him for scrubbing any contaminated buildings. He'll be kept busy." Then he looked at Marie. "We'd better see who's next in line to be senior corpsman, Marie. Make sure that whoever it is has the SMDR training."

"O.K., boss," the secretary said.

"What's 'SMDR'?" Scarlett asked.

"'Senior Medical Department Representative,'" George said. "It's the highest Navy enlisted medical position on a command where there aren't any medical officers. In our case, we do have doctors, but we still have the senior corpsmen around to supplement them."

"If he's been trained as an 'SMDR', wouldn't it be better to keep him around for his expertise?" Roger asked.

The government agent laughed and shook his head. "I have no billet for a fat ass idiot who sits around and drinks coffee all day. From what I could see, that's all he ever did."

**********

The female corpsman who had examined Roger's arm before they arrived in Taylorsville returned with medical kit and said, "The surgery is backed up right now, Mr. Williams. I'll have to sew him up here."

George turned to Roger and said, "Follow that young lady into the next room, Roger, and she'll sew up that arm for you."

Scarlett watched as her companion left the room, closed her eyes and waited in silence. The thoughts of the secretary and the two Marines came through to her mind clearly.

_--...a few more hours and I'll get back to my room and take a nap. Maybe read a little. I wish that _Family Feud _was still on and...--_

_--...you're a pretty one, Red, but not as pretty as Angie here. Maybe she'll let me do another 'inspection' of her again, only this time, I'll...--_

_--...probably want to do another inspection. Gawd, you'd think he's never seen a woman in a bra and uniform pants before, the way he drooled. What a...--_

Oddly enough, she could only get a word or two every several seconds from George himself. _You have some sort of device blocking my powers, _she thought. _I have no idea what it could be - or just what government agency you work for to have such a thing._

"Going to sleep?" George asked the teen.

Scarlett opened her eyes and yawned. "I'm just waiting until Roger gets back in here," she said.

"Kind of old for you, isn't he?"

The teen just stared at him.

"O.K., you gave me a look just like my daughter does. when I say something she considers wrong."

She blinked. "You're not the one who's chosen him. I am. He was injured trying to protect me from those raiders the night we met. I just hope that my youth doesn't turn him off."

The man looked down briefly and a light blush appeared on his face. "I'm sorry if I said anything to offend you, Miss Hawkins. I did not mean to pry in your affairs."

"Roger's a good man, Mr. Williams. I don't understand why a simple investigation into someone would get him threatened."

The government agent gave the girl a wry smile. "I see that Roger told you of our first encounter," he said. "Did he also tell you about Bruno?"

Scarlett blinked again. "Yes."

"Your 'boyfriend' is a persistent investigator. _That's_ why he came up against us in the first place."

When he said that, he turned his attention to a telephone and made a call. He turned his back on the girl and spoke in low tones.

**********

After Roger returned, a large bandage over his right forearm, Scarlett sat beside George's desk. She watched as the government agent took a list of questions out of a side drawer. Then he sat behind the desk and pulled his chair in.

"Do you normally interview refugees?" the teen asked him. "Since you're 'in charge' of this rescue station, how do you even have time for it?"

"I don't," the agent admitted and slightly loosened his tie. "I conduct one or two interviews a day, though, just to keep my hand on it a little. And, since Roger and I are already acquainted, I decided to interview you two myself."

Scarlett saw Roger roll his eyes and looked down briefly. "O.K.," she said. "I'm ready when you are."

"You ready, Marie?" George asked his secretary.

"Ready, boss."

He turned his attention back to the teenager and asked, "What is your full name?"

"Scarlett Leann Hawkins."

"Your age is seventeen?" She nodded. "What is your birthday?"

"August the fifth."

George cleared his throat, opened a bottle of water and took a drink. "Where is your birthplace?"

"Whitley Memorial Hospital, Columbia City, Indiana."

"What's your parents' full names? For your mother, give her maiden name."

The redhead looked down briefly. "Conrad Daniel Hawkins and Jennifer Lynnette Kennedy."

"Prior to Black Saturday, what was your address?"

She sighed. "418 Wellman Drive, Lawndale Maryland."

"Where do you plan to go after you leave Taylorsville?"

"The Warren, Indiana area."

"O.K., now what is your level of education, Scarlett?"

"I'm...I was a junior at Lawndale High School."

The questions continued for several minutes, until it was Roger's turn.

He and Scarlett switched places and, as Roger sat at the desk, she picked up Smokey and held her on her lap.

_--I need to walk around some more.--_

"Mr. Williams?" Scarlett asked.

The government agent looked at the teen and responded, "Yes, Miss Hawkins?"

"Would it be O.K. for Smokey to walk around in here until we leave?"

"Certainly. She shouldn't be cooped up all the time, anyway. I happen to be a cat person myself, and I miss Snickers right now."

"Is that your cat's name?"

He smiled. "Actually, Snickers belongs to my daughter, but she thinks all four of us belong to her." He shrugged. "Cats are that way, you know."

"Yeah," Scarlett smiled as she set Smokey back on the floor. "Don't leave this room, girl."

George turned his attention back to Roger. "Shall we get started?"

"Why do we even have to answer any of these questions?" Roger asked. "What does it matter anymore? Why is it even your business?"

The agent leaned back in his chair and looked at the private detective for several seconds. Then he said, "The United States has been hurt, Roger, and hurt bad. We're trying to stabilize the situation as best as we can, and it's not easy. We don't know for sure how many citizens we've lost yet. In addition to figuring out how many we've lost, we're going to try to find out _who _we lost. As far as the dead are concerned, we may never know who all of them are - but we're going to try."

"Uh, huh."

George nodded. "Yes. There's also another thing for you to keep in mind. In fact, it concerns Scarlett, as well."

"Oh?" she asked and looked at him.

"You're wanting to accompany Scarlett to Indiana. She's a Hoosier native, and should have no problem going back home. You, however, are a Virginia native, if I recall correctly. The State of Indiana may balk at accepting _you_."

"But Roger is with me!" Scarlett spoke up loudly. "We've saved each other's lives! We're a cou--" The teen stopped suddenly and blushed as she looked at the floor. "I've lost my family. I can't lose Roger, too." Tears ran from her eyes. "I can't," she added, her voice a whisper.

"Scarlett," Roger said and looked at her. "I won't leave you. That I can promise you."

"Miss Hawkins, I just want you to be prepared. Some states are balking at accepting any refugees - period. They're about to find out that the federal government didn't disappear with the bombs. Some states, such as Kentucky and Utah, aren't allowing live-in lovers to move in right now. Indiana could just join them in that move."

The teen blushed. "How would he be allowed in, then?" she asked.

"They might require you two to be married."

Roger and Scarlett looked at each other, their expressions both shocked. He looked at the agent and asked, "How can they even enforce that?"

George smiled and said, "They can't, and in the long run, it will fail. But right now, under martial law, they've got the bull by the horns and they're taking advantage of it. Scarlett actually has an advantage, though. You're still a child in the eyes of most adults. Roger can be seen as your guardian."

"That's not how I see him," the teen said.

"I know that, Scarlett," the agent said and smiled. "In reality, under Maryland law, you are at the age of consent. Considering your orphaned status, you can now be seen as an adult."

Then he turned his attention back to Roger and returned to the questions.

**********

The room they were in was once a school teacher's office, from the days before cubicles became popular. It was small, but with the desk moved out, Roger and Scarlett had room to lay straight on the floor.

The couple had been given several days worth of Meals, Ready to Eat, and those sat on the floor with their backpacks. Both had already ate supper and Scarlett even set up a make shift litter box out of a plastic bag. She spread out a large sleeping bag and two blankets.

They ate a meal in silence and laid back on the sleeping bag after he finished.

"What did you think about what he said?" Scarlett asked him as she sat on the sleeping bag.

Roger looked up at the girl. "You mean the part about us having to get married?" She nodded. "It's a bit early in our relationship for that."

"Would you even _want_ to get married?" she asked.

He reached up and stroked her left cheek. "I've thought about it some as I've gotten closer to thirty," he admitted. "I wasn't ready at eighteen, mainly because I was way too immature."

"So what does that make me?" she asked, a frown on her face. "A child?"

He sat beside her and pulled her into an embrace. "When I was eighteen, the most stressful things I had to deal with were tests and family gatherings being way too boring. You, on the other hand, are just seventeen and have dealt with three would-be rape attacks since that...Black Saturday, I think...and you've survived each, a little older, wiser, and more of your innocence taken away. You're not a kid, despite the fact that I've called you that. You are a young woman now, and I would be honored if you would allow me to accompany you to Indiana."

She laid her face against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. "What if they make us get married?" she asked.

"I wouldn't be as worried about getting you pregnant as I would be before."

"Roger!" She looked up at his face, a shocked expression on her face.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Sorry. A small attempt at humor."

"Very small."

He chuckled and kissed her lips then. "Scarlett, if it means that you would get to your old home, I'd marry you. After all, I find that I like being with you more and more." He laid back down and pulled the redhead down with him. "Why don't we go to the restroom, then get ready for bed. Then, we'll snuggle."

She looked him in the eyes and said, "If we start...I mean, if we get to the...oh, crap, I don't know what to say!"

"Just come out and say it, Scarlett. After all, you are a young woman, and if we are partners, I want us to be equal partners."

"I don't want us to have sexual intercourse yet!" she said quickly and blushed. "I know that you would like to, but I'm not ready for that."

He smiled and rubbed her right shoulder. "I am a patient man, dear. Snuggling doesn't have to involve going all the way."

She looked at him for several seconds, then said, "I wish that I could read you."

Roger propped himself up slightly and moved his face over hers. "Maybe you will one day," he said and moved his lips closer to hers, "when we're together longer." They kissed.

When he broke the kiss, Scarlett said, "I hope so." Then she returned his kiss.

**********

Roger flicked on the small flashlight as the teen turned off the overhead light. She had on a long T-shirt, while he was dressed in his T-shirt and underwear. As she got under the covers and adjusted them on her body, he turned off the flashlight.

Smokey stretched out at their feet and yawned loudly. Her cat carrier sat in a corner, the door open just in case the feline wanted to curl up in there.

Scarlett felt Roger move onto his left side and his hand moved to right over her the T-shirt over her belly. At the same time, his lips found hers and they kissed.

Then he moved his hand under her shirt and fondled her belly gently as they continued to kiss.

When his hand moved further up her shirt, she broke the kiss and inhaled slowly.

"This doesn't bother you, does it?" he asked.

Her response was to slap her left hand onto his and hold it to her. "What do you think?" she asked.

They kissed again.

**********

Finally, sleep started to overtake the couple and Scarlett turned onto her left side and moved against Roger spoon-style.

He wrapped his right arm over her side and his hand rested on her waist just off her hip. "Do you have the pushdagger in your hand?" he asked.

The girl pulled the sheathed weapon out from under her pillow and held it tightly in her left hand. "I do now."

"Good night, then, honey."

"What if I hurt you, Roger? I don't want to hurt either you or Smokey."

"You won't, honey, you won't."

"How do you know that?"

He sighed in the darkness. "I have faith in you, Scarlett. You know that I'm not a threat, and I'm betting that _whatever _is taking control of you knows that already."

"Roger, if something happens...I love you."

He held her tightly and kissed the side of her face. "I love you, too, Scarlett," he said.

She pulled the blankets up to her neck again and closed her eyes. She felt her hand heat up as she held the weapon.

(To be continued...)


	18. Chapter 18

**18. The Dream/Vision**

Though the pushdagger felt warm - very warm - in her left hand, Scarlett had no visions or anything. She simply laid there, and the feeling of silliness came upon her. But she didn't release the weapon, either.

She could hear Roger as his breathing adjusted and he slipped into a deeper sleep. Even Smokey went into her dream sleep and the teen could sense the cat "playing" with squirrels and birds.

_Maybe this thing doesn't "work" its power unless I'm in danger_, she thought.

Roger, in his sleep, moved his right hand over her belly and pressed his body against hers yet again.

The teen smiled as the warmth of his body radiated into her back, her buttocks and her legs. She patted his hand briefly and closed her eyes.

_I love you, Roger_.

**oooooooooo**

_At first, she was shocked still. Scarlett was suddenly in a thatched hut - one where it was unbelievably hot and humid, like a still summer day where the heat had nowhere to go and sweat simply oozed from one's pores._

"_You are not Richie."_

_She turned and saw a man with curly blonde hair, lean and shirtless, but still clad in olive green pants and black combat boots. A pair of dog tags hung loosely around his neck; both the tags and his own perspiration reflected the sparse candle light._

"_What?" she asked, her voice confused. "Who's Richie?"_

"_My boy," the man said. "He was four - no, five - when I shipped over from Hawaii. I left him back in the lower forty-eight with his mother. But, enough about that. Who are you and how did you end up with my pushdagger?"_

_Something in the shadows moved and Scarlett watched as a Vietnamese woman moved into the candlelight on the man's left side. She stretched out and laid her head on his left leg. She was totally nude, tanned and had straight black hair that stretched below her shoulders._

"_Who are you?" he repeated his question._

_The redhead blinked. "I'm Scarlett Hawkins."_

"_O.K., Scarlett Hawkins, how did you end up with my pushdagger?"_

_She gasped as the dark-haired woman then stood up, walked behind the man, then pulled his head back and rubbed it over her breasts._

"_Well?"_

"_I - I found it in a storage locker in Maryland."_

_The man stared at her in silence for a long time, then turned his head to the left. He kissed his companion's left breast several times, then looked back at his visitor, a slight smirk on his face. "You know, I was worried that Mitch would keep it for himself, instead of giving it to Richie like he promised." He sighed and shook his head. "Looks like I was right."_

_The man's companion stood up and Scarlett looked away as she moved in front of the man, then squatted as she sat on his lap._

_The redheaded teen focused her gaze on the man's face and asked, "How do I understand what I've been seeing?"_

_He chuckled and ran his right hand over the inside of the Asian woman's left thigh. "You must be a virgin," he said._

"_I mean about the knife."_

_The man's laughter stopped and he stared at her again. "You've used the pushdagger."_

_It had been used as a statement, not a question, and the girl nodded. "Twice."_

_He stared at her some more and both he and his companion stood up to face the girl. "The knife and I were one," he said in explanation. "With it in my grasp, I was unbeatable in a hand-to-hand fight."_

_Scarlett swallowed. "You fought three men alone once, didn't you?"_

_He nodded. "Three NVA. I stabbed and beat them to death."_

"_But how does it...how does it take 'me' over like it has?" the teen asked. "I don't understand what's happening and it frightens me."_

_The Vietnamese woman said, in perfect English, "It is infused with his blood."  
_

_The teen blinked. "What?"_

_The man wrapped his left hand around his companion and said, "Mai performed a ceremony over me and my knife one night, so that I would be invincible in a fight whenever I used it." He kissed the woman and looked at the teen. "Now you and the pushdagger are one. How many have you killed with it?"_

_Scarlett thought briefly and said, "One. But when I used it the second time, it was knocked out of my hand. I still fought under it's power, and almost beat two men to death with a brick."_

_The man nodded. "You are definitely one with the weapon, now. But, how did you stop from killing the last two men?"_

"_My friend - boyfriend - he spoke to me," the teen said, "and I nearly attacked him instead."_

_He nodded again. "That makes sense."_

"_But how do I keep from hurting him - or my cat?"_

_The man smiled at her. "Do you love both of them?" he asked. "I mean, really love them?"_

_The teen's mouth opened and she blinked. "Yes!"_

"_Then you won't hurt them," he said and shook his head slightly. "In fact, Mai's ceremony might...help you with your boyfriend."_

_Scarlett looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked._

_Mai moved up to her, thrust her breasts forward and said, "You will figure it out."_

_Then the teen watched as the couple moved to a small mat in the back of the room. Her mouth dropped open as the man laid down and the woman moved on top of him. The woman immediately began to rub herself on the man, as if she were dry-humping him._

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett blinked and looked ahead of herself to see the shadowed wall of the teacher's office where she, Roger and Smokey were billeted.

The teen shook as she looked down from her immediate position into Roger's face; the man laid on his back beneath her, the front of his T-shirt torn open and his expression one of shock. From the sparse illumination given out by the flashlight, she could see that his underwear briefs were still on him, and that confused her for some reason.

She looked down to see her own bared breasts; her nightshirt was crumbled up on the other side of the room. Then she quickly slapped her right hand on her right hip. The sound of flesh on flesh was loud to her ears - and what _that_ meant was totally unmistakable.

"Uh..." she said and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

-_You are doing it wrong_.-

Smokey's thought came through to Scarlett perfectly clear and absolutely critical.

"Uh..." she said again.

Roger reached up and she drew in a deep breath as his hands slowly traveled over her breasts on their way to her shoulders. He then pulled her down by her shoulders and kissed her shivering lips. When he broke the kiss, he moved her hair away from her left eye and said, "I remember what we agreed to earlier, honey, but if you're wanting to..."

The girl's response was to immediately lay her face sideways on her companion's left shoulder and look ahead at his chest hair. "I'm sorry, Roger," she whispered and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "What...what just happened?"

"You mean, you don't know?"

Scarlett shook her head quickly. "I had another vision," she said and closed her eyes. "What did I do to you?"

He moved his left hand to her back and gently rubbed her bare skin. "You sat up all of a sudden and pulled the covers off of both of us. By the time I got the flashlight on, you had pulled off your nightshirt and tossed it aside. Then you ripped open my T-shirt, removed your panties and climbed on top of me."

She shuddered.

"Then you began to dry-hump me."

"Oh, man," she said and groaned.

Roger kissed the top of her head and said, "Why don't you tell me what happened in this vision?"

She related what she had seen and all that she and the two people had talked about. When she finished, she turned her head and hid her face in his chest.

Several seconds passed and he then said, "Scarlett?"

She said nothing and kept her face buried in his chest.

"Scarlett?"

"What?" her voice was muffled against his skin.

"Don't hide from me, honey. Please."

The redhead looked up at his face and he smiled. Even in the shadowed light of the room, he could see that she was embarrassed.

"You saw me naked." Her voice seemed small.

He nodded as he pulled her chin up and kissed her lips briefly. "You're a beautiful young woman," he said. "I always knew that you were, and I'm a lucky man for what I saw."

"But, you're ready to...to...but I'm _not_!"

Roger kissed her again. "Would you like to sleep with me as you are? Or would you rather get dressed again?"

"I want to get dressed again," she said quickly. "_Please_."

He kissed her forehead and said, "You don't need my permission for that, dear. But can I watch you as you get dressed?"

The girl looked away quickly and her blush seemed to deepen. She then shook her head several times. "Please, Roger, turn over. I'm sorry."

He smiled at her. "It's O.K., Scarlett." Then he turned his back to her.

For several seconds, the girl said or did nothing. Then she stood up, her back to him as well. She picked up her nightshirt and quickly put it on, then looked around until she found her panties. She then put them on as well.

The teen then laid beside Roger, pulled the covers over their bodies and laid her left hand on his left shoulder.

He turned back over, smiled at her and asked, "Why does being watched while getting dressed embarrass you? After all, you and I are now a couple."

She looked down. "I don't know, Roger," she said. "It just does, O.K.?" She looked back up at his face. "I'm sorry that I worked you up like that. I know that you were ready to go ahead and have sex."

"Yes, I was. I still am."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thank you for not insisting on...screwing me. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had."

He stroked the left side of her face and smiled gently at her. "Yes, you would have, cutie. You would have." He kissed her and stroked her face again. "I saw your expression when you came to yourself. You aren't ready for it - yet." He chuckled then. "However, before you climbed on me, you grabbed my crotch and squeezed me - hard."

The redhead closed her eyes and groaned again. "It would be different if I could just remember it!"

Roger kissed her again. "I meant what I said to you earlier, Scarlett."

"What?"

"That I love you."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her vision misty. "I love you, too, Roger."

"Why don't we go on back to sleep?" he suggested.

Scarlett kissed him, then she turned around. She scooted back against Roger and said, "I'm not going to hold the knife anymore tonight, Roger. I think we need to sleep."

"I agree," he said and wrapped his right arm around her. "Love you, Scarlett."

The redhead shivered as she felt him hold her. "I love you, too, Roger."

Several seconds passed in silence and Smokey moved to a spot near the girl's thighs. She stretched, then curled up beside her on the sleeping bag.

-_You are still doing it wrong_.-

**oooooooooo**

BONUS: On the message boards that I post this story on, this is counted as Part 18.5:

_Scarlett stood in a grassy field and looked around. Oddly enough, she was aware that she was dreaming, but that knowledge didn't break the cycle. She didn't have her backpack or anything else, save her pushdagger in her right hand and a heavy revolver in her left._

_She looked down at her clothing and smiled briefly. At least the black T-shirt and black jeans fit the way she liked to dress._

_Smokey stood a foot to her right and waited patiently for something. Another foot further, Roger stood. Like Scarlett, all he carried were weapons, except that his was an automatic pistol and the nightstick they had taken from that man at the garage._

_The teen was suddenly aware that she was in charge and the other two were waiting on her to decide what to do. She simply nodded as she motioned forward._

_All three walked together through the field and remained side by side. Neither human said anything, and she couldn't detect any discernable thoughts from the cat._

_Suddenly the field gave way to a city street and the three stopped. The homes around them appeared abandoned and damaged. Most of the cars that were appeared damaged and covered with a film of dust. The girl looked at one house and her mouth dropped open as she recognized the home of her friend, Kristy Barton._

_We're in Lawndale...but why?_

_After a few seconds, she pointed to their left and all three moved together again. While they moved, Scarlett felt that something was very out of place. She held up her right hand and they stopped as she listened._

"_What is it?" Roger asked._

"_Listen," the teen said. "What do you hear?"_

"_Nothing."_

_The girl blinked as she realized that what Lawndale was missing was sound. Outside of the wind, there was nothing. No background noises, no cars, no music...nothing._

_This is what the dead places are like, she thought._

_All three moved forward again and no time seemed to pass before she stopped them outside of her old home. She looked in silence at the shattered plate glass window. She remembered it cracking from the Washington shock wave only to be fully broken when those two boys attacked her._

_Again, Roger and Smokey waited for Scarlett's lead; the teen led them into the house and they stopped in the living room._

"_What are you doing here, baby girl?" a voice asked from the recliner and Scarlett turned to see her father sitting there._

"_Daddy?"_

"_Why are you here, Scarlett?" The dark-haired man looked at her and shook his head. "This is no place for you. Not anymore."_

_Tears welled up in the girl's eyes. "I miss you, Daddy, and Mommy, too."_

_A small smile appeared on the man's face and he said, his voice chiding, "You're a woman, now, Scarlett, even if you are my baby girl. That means you have a woman's burden."_

"_I don't understand," she said._

_His smile widened. "Yes, you do."_

"_I see that you found yourself a man...and a pet," a female voice said to her right._

_Scarlett turned to see a red-haired woman leaning against the wall._

"_Mom?"_

"_Take care of your family, Scarlett," the woman said, "and remember us."_

_The tears ran down her cheeks, then. "I will, Mom."_

_Jenny Hawkins then smiled at her daughter. "Wait until you get back home to get pregnant."_

"_Yes," Conrad Hawkins said from the recliner. "Use protection."_

_Scarlett's reaction was to look at her parents in shock._

"_Find Kristy," her father added. "She needs you."_

_Then, with a sudden blast of wind, everything turned black and the teen realized that she was alone in a room full of skeletons._

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett's eyes opened and she gasped in the darkness of their darkened room. She laid on her left side and could feel Roger's back as they laid "cheek-to-cheek" in the sleeping bag. She looked ahead and saw the shadowed form of Smokey as the cat slept on one of the backpacks.

She moved her hands, and frowned when she realized that the pushdagger was still in her right hand.

_You are definitely one with the weapon, now_, she heard the blond soldier's voice say in her mind.

The teen thought about her best friend, and felt a brief tinge of guilt over the fact that she hadn't tried to find her.

_How could I? I have no idea where she is. What did Dad mean by saying she needed me?_

She pushed the knife under her pillow and closed her eyes.

(To be continued...)


	19. Chapter 19

**19. The Raid on Taylorsville**

Scarlett Hawkins slept fitfully beside Roger. The memory of stripping nude and "attacking" him in his sleep affected her sleep and to her mind, even caused the dream of visiting her abandoned home in Lawndale.

Suddenly she felt Roger's right hand move up inside her nightshirt. He moved up to her chest and she swallowed as he squeezed on her for several seconds. Then she felt his fingers move over her belly to her panties.

"No," she whispered, but his hand moved into the garment anyway. "Roger, I said 'no'!"

His response was to turn her onto her back and pull up her nightshirt.

She gasped as he pulled down her underwear...

**oooooooooo**

The teen opened her eyes quickly and looked beside her as Roger snored into his pillow. She shivered as she ran her left hand over her body.

Her nightshirt and panties were still in place.

_I hate these dreams! _she thought and closed her eyes.

**oooooooooo**

The wind was out of the west. That fact alone made Marine Lance Corporal Jeannette Rollins relax. Straight west of Taylorsville was Cumberland and Morgantown. _If the wind had been out of the northwest instead_... the young Nebraska native thought and shuddered.

However, the brunette's watch partner, PFC Adam Hollingsworth, was worried enough for the both of them. "I tell ya, Jeannie, if we glow in the dark because of this, I'm suing the Corps and the government."

"Knock yourself out, sea lawyer," the tall, 23-year-old woman said. "The wind's out of the west, Adam. You know it's coming from Cumberland, Morgantown and Cincinnati. All three are still here."

"St. Louis is west of us," the short-haired blond countered her argument. He was at least two inches taller than she was. "What's left of it will be hot for at least the next thousand years."

Jeannette glanced at him and sighed. The two leathernecks strolled the darkened streets of Taylorsville in unison as part of their roving watch. "Adam, you know that the fallout pattern from St. Louis peters out just north of Evansville, Indiana. The info blasts from the Armed Forces Network told us about that."

The taller Marine waved his hands and shook his head slightly. "I'm telling ya that we're in the golden triangle of fallout here, Jeannie," he said. "We got Pittsburgh to the northwest, Philadelphia to the northeast and Washington to the southeast. It's only a matter of time before all three give us a bunch of hot kisses."

A noise to their right brought the two Marines to a stop. They lifted their weapons and moved towards the shadows.

Suddenly, two mechanical spitting sounds could be heard and the two stopped. A dart hit the woman Marine's left thigh, while another dart hit the male in his abdomen. Both collapsed on the ground as four men in dark clothing and camouflaged skin moved up to them.

"We've got a nice young one, here," one man said. "Early twenties at least. She could pop out quite a few young'uns before she gets too old."

A second man picked up the two's weapons while the other two men carefully frisked the unconscious Marines. "What about the male? Do we shoot him in the head?"

The first man shook his head and said, "No. I really don't want to shoot a boy who's only crime is serving his country."

"The wrong country," a third man said.

"Not his fault," the first man said. "Just leave him there, but get the dart. Then let's get the girl out of here and take her back to the compound. Hopefully the other team gets one, too, and we can then prepare to raid the school building tomorrow night. There's quite a few young fillies in there."

"I can't wait," the fourth man said. "I saw one short-haired blonde go in there yesterday with a small boy. I hope that I get her for a wife." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

The first man looked at him quickly. "You have to go through the lottery, just like everyone else." He motioned to the young girl as she was slung over one big man's left shoulder. "You might get her, or someone else."

"A man can dream, can't he?"

There was no response to that question as the four men carried their hostage away in the darkness.

**oooooooooo**

Miranda Bradshaw walked out of the mobile hospital set up in the Taylorsville Community Center, a fresh bandage on her left arm. The 35-year-old woman with straight, shoulder-length light red hair walked straight to the street and headed towards her refugee quarters located in what was normally the Moose lodge, located on the outskirts of the town.

She had injured herself several days before when her car wrecked as the nuclear blast from Washington fried its internal electronics. She had a memory of the sudden brightness that came from behind her, but none of that occupied her mind. Nor did the black eye she got from the wreck come to her mind. Nor did she think much of the farmer and his two sons who got her out of her car and took her to the first refugee center, which was simply three Army National Guard trucks and a local SWAT van set up just off the road near their farm.

What Miranda constantly thought of was what she thought happened at 11:03 a.m. that Saturday in Clock and Book, a trendy D.C. pizzeria she had opened three years before.

Colleen Jergens, her 18-year-old cook with the pink and green punk haircut, had to have just finished rolling out a pie dough for Mr. Wilson, a local bookseller who always ordered a small chicken and spinach pizza right after opening every Saturday morning.

Marna Penco, her 29-year-old Saturday day shift leader, would have kept the local bank's operating hours in her mind, and been worried about having the right amount of change. If anybody used a fifty- or hundred-dollar bill before she was ready, she would have steamed until she could get it broke down.

Lynda Brannigan, her 19-year-old prep cook/dishwasher, would be in the back of the store, rocking out to the latest boy bands while washing the prep dishes.

At 11:03, there would have been a bright flash, then...nothing. At least she hoped that they felt nothing.

As it had happened many times before, tears flowed from the redhead's eyes as she cursed herself for not being there when her dreams and her _family_ died in the nuclear fireball.

She cursed herself for taking a day off to go to a farmer's market.

She was still mourning when she suddenly felt a stinging sensation hit her left buttock cheek, stopped and started to turn. Then, the woman's eyes rolled up in her head as she simply collapsed half on and half off the sidewalk. Four men moved up to her out of the shadows and surrounded her unconscious body.

A red light from a filtered flashlight shone on her face and a male voice said, his voice a whisper, "She's a pretty one."

"Got a nice set of knockers, too," a second man said. "Wonder how she hurt her arm, or how she got that black eye?"

"Who cares?" a third man said. "Let's get her back to the compound, and we'll get ready to get more."

She was carefully picked up and laid on one of the men's right shoulder. His right hand moved up to the small of her back where he gripped the top of her pants and held onto her as he carried her. The other three men formed a defensive perimeter around them as they left Taylorsville.

**oooooooooo**

Scarlett didn't know what time it was when she finally woke up for good. She laid still as she oriented herself to the darkened teacher's office that was now their 'room'. Roger's right arm was draped over her right side and his thumb was hooked into her panty waistband. _My shirt must have rode up, _she thought as she chuckled, _or he 'made' it ride up. Dirty boy_. The memory of the last dream - the bad one -faded and she smiled as she carefully pulled his hand free. _I wonder what the schedule is for the showers here._

Smokey was curled up in Roger's shirt, against the other wall. The feline was awake and looked at the girl.

_-Is this our new home?-_

"No," the teen whispered. "We're not there yet."

_-I do not like this place. It is too small.-_

Scarlett sat up and stretched. A few of her bones popped as she did so and she winced. _Crap!_

"Uhhhh!" Roger groaned and lifted his face out of the pillow. "Is it time to get up yet?"

"I don't know," she said and stroked his right arm. "What time is it?"

He turned over and picked up his wristwatch. "I love this glow-in-the-dark stuff," he said as he stared at it. He blinked his eyes several times as he looked at it. "It's almost seven o'clock. We need to be ready if we're going to take a shower this morning."

"What times are they letting us take them?" she asked.

He sat up beside her and stretched as he yawned. "Seven-thirty is when that paper said that they would start. The women and girls will use the girl's locker room, while the men and boys will use the boy's locker room." He then ran his right index finger down her back and moved his head over her right shoulder. When she turned to look at him, he kissed her quickly. "I wouldn't mind if they let us shower together, though."

The girl blushed in the darkness. "Uh...not yet, dear. Besides, I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Was your hand in my underwear while I was asleep?"

Roger chuckled and shook his head. "I wanted to, but I'd rather that you'd be awake when I do that. It's not like I haven't seen all of you, anyway. If we had a pole in here, you could strip again and dance for me." He laughed even harder.

Scarlett smiled at him and said, "You're mean, you know that? You're dirty, too."

"When I take my shower, I'll be nice and clean."

"Yeah," she said and laughed. "Right. I have another question for you."

"O.K. Shoot."

"When we start to have sex, if I were to say 'no' to you, what would you do?"

The man sighed in the darkness and he gently touched one of her legs. "We've been through this before, Scarlett. No means no, and I do know that quite well. Why do you keep asking me that?"

"I dreamed last night that I got you so hot from my vision that you...did it to me anyway. Even when I told you no."

"Your visions notwithstanding, Scarlett, dreams do not have to make any kind of sense." He pulled her into an embrace and she wrapped her arms around him. "I'll tell you this much, however. If you get me worked up like that and I'm hot and ready, but you're not, well, I can take of it myself, if you know what I mean."

She closed her eyes as she felt her face heat up. "Uh, yeah, I do." She stood up and turned on the light, instantly blinding herself and her two roommates. When her sight returned, she pulled breakfast out for her and Roger, then prepared dishes of dried cat food and water for the cat.

When she sat back down next to her boyfriend, she said, "Roger?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry about last night. I really am. I still keep thinking that I disappointed you."

"You didn't." He smiled and patted her right leg. "Don't worry about it."

Scarlett bit into a granola bar and chewed it for several seconds, then swallowed. She looked at the wall. "Well, I do worry about it."

The man's hand remained on her leg and he moved it up to her thigh, where he squeezed her firmly. For several seconds, he continued to rub her thigh, from just above her knee to several inches under her nightshirt and back down. "I wanted to finish what you had started," he admitted. "I could have easily rolled you right onto your back, got my own underwear down, and nailed you good."

The teen winced at the way he expressed his desire, but asked, "Then why didn't you?"

Roger laughed then, and shook his head. "I have certain 'words of wisdom' that apply to different situations," he said. "In this case, _never_ screw with a girl who carries a pushdagger." He looked at her and laughed again. "I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't just a little bit frightened of you, Scarlett. You're a mind reader psychically connected to a deadly weapon, for God's sake!"

"Then why are you and I still together?" she asked, her voice seemingly smaller.

"Because I'm falling in love with you the longer I'm with you, Scarlett Hawkins." He brushed her ever-present lock of red hair aside and saw that her left eye glistened with a tear. He smiled and kissed her forehead, then her cheek and then her lips. "When we finally do make love, it will be in a different room than this." He looked around. "It would be hard to _enjoy_ the experience when I would expect the teacher to suddenly walk in on us."

Scarlett smiled at the thought and said, "I've heard rumors that some students a few years ago made out in the teacher's lounge of my school. Supposedly they were caught by our principal." She laid her head on his left shoulder. "I don't know if that's actually true, though." She turned her head briefly and kissed his upper left arm, then looked ahead. "I had another dream inbetween those two I told you about."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "You and Smokey were with me in Lawndale and I talked with my parents." Then the teen looked him in the face. "They told me that I should avoid getting pregnant until 'we're home.'" She gave him a weak smile. "I'm in love with you, Roger, and I don't know if I can _avoid_ giving in to you. I'm not ready for it yet, but..." She closed her eyes. "...I wanted to, at the same time. My hormones, I guess."

The man looked at her and then a smirk appeared on his face. "You know how to make a hormone, don't you?" he asked.

The redhead looked at him and said, "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Do you know how to make a hormone?"

She shook her head.

"Don't pay her."

Scarlett groaned and smacked Roger's left thigh. "At least you have a sense of humor," she said and kissed him.

"There's another reason I really don't want us to do it in here," he said.

"Why?"

He motioned his right thumb towards Smokey. "I get the oddest feeling that she watches us and mocks us. I'd hate to think what she thought about last night."

The teen blushed and looked down. "She's a cat. I think they judge everybody else by their own standards. That's the way they are."

**oooooooooo**

The refugee group walked calmly down the side of highway 26, mindful of any traffic in the area, as well as any criminal gangs that might be operating. Of the fifteen people in the group, one older man walked point ahead of them and kept a watch out as they moved closer to Taylorsville.

They ranged in age from twelve to fifty-five, and came together as much from coincidence as from necessity. Originally they came from Randallstown and the area around Liberty Reservoir, but as the fallout spread from Washington, they trekked westward, hoping for government protection until they could (if ever) go back to their homes.

"Let's all take a break," the leader, fifty-five-year-old Kenneth Thomas, said and led his group to a cleared area off the highway. When he stopped them near the remains of a house foundation, he faced them and smiled. In normal times, the man was a high school history teacher, and he addressed them as if they were students in one of his classes. "We've only got another six or seven miles to go to get to Taylorsville," he said. "Go ahead and eat some of your food for breakfast. The refugee center will have more food for us, so don't get too stressed out about running out. Take it easy, and don't go towards the road unless we are all together. We're close to our goal, so stay together."

Fifteen-year-old Adeline "Addy" King nodded silently and moved off by herself on the property's perimeter. The young brunette was a freshman at Randallstown West High School, and wondered where her dad, a sailor on the ballistic missile submarine USS Kentucky, was and if he was still O.K. Mr. Thomas had assured her that nuke subs were the safest places to be in times like these, but the teen wasn't ignorant of reality, either.

She knew what the initials ASW meant, and she also knew that the Russians and Chinese had such capability, just like the United States did. "Just come back home to me, Daddy," she whispered. "Don't leave me the way Mom did."

To her right a black squirrel with a fluffy tail and gray fur on his legs stopped near her and seemingly posed. The very sight made the girl smile and when he ran off away from the clearing, Addy stood up and moved to follow him.

The animal took off behind a hill and the girl followed at a discreet distance. Both of them stopped a few minutes later, when the bi-colored rodent found what looked like a walnut and proceeded to attack it.

Addy smiled as the squirrel turned the hull in its paws expertly and opened it for the treasure inside. Then he dropped the broken hull halves and ran off with the nut as the girl's gaze followed it.

Then she saw a pair of black boots near a bush and frowned in confusion. She looked up from the boots and saw the camoflauged features of a bearded man who stared at her face.

The teen drew back in shock, but before she could yell out, a dart hit the left side of her neck and she collapsed on the ground.

"Kinda young," one man said as he and three others moved around her.

"My mamma was this age and size when she had me," a second man said as he picked her up. "This one'll do just fine. She can pop out seven or eight kids for us." He stroked the side of her face and plucked the dart out of her neck. "She'll make one of us a good wife."

He picked up the teen and the four carried their hostage away from the group in the clearing.

The others didn't notice that Addy was even missing for another five minutes. They spent the next hour searching, before giving up and moving on towards Taylorsville, their moods somber and depressed.

**oooooooooo**

Later, Scarlett was in the line to take a shower, with different other women and girls who were also sheltered inside the school building. The teen found herself in line behind a curly-haired brunette in her early-to-mid-twenties with two young girls. Behind her was a woman in her early thirties with short-cut blonde hair and a boy who looked to be around eight or nine years old.

The three older females all held towels and various toiletries in small bags.

_What in the world is a boy doing here in this line? _the teen thought as she looked at the boy. He looked back at her and gave her a small and somewhat defiant smile.

The blonde woman noticed Scarlett's confused glances at her son and spoke up, "He's all I have left here. My husband's stationed in Korea and I can't just send Scotty here to the men's line all alone."

The teen noticed the woman's hold on her son and could read the uncertain fear in the words about her husband's possible fate. "S'O.K.," she said and nodded several times. "I understand."

The woman held out her right hand. "I'm Cheryl Kerr."

Scarlett shook the outstretched hand. "Scarlett Hawkins."

Just then, one of the little girls bumped into her and gave her a sudden and frightened look.

"Amber!" the curly-haired brunette said and grabbed her daughter's right arm. "Watch what you're doing! You're not home, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Mommy," the little girl said.

"It's O.K.," Scarlett said and looked at the woman. "She didn't hurt me, and I won't hurt her."

The brunette looked at the teen briefly. _-Are you all alone here, kid?-_

"Are you and the girls alone here?" Scarlett asked.

The woman smiled and shook her head. "No. Trent, my boyfriend, he's back at our space in the gym. When we get back, then he'll take his shower. What about you?"

The teen smiled as well. "My boyfriend, Roger, is back in our space with our cat."

"You have a cat here?" the woman asked, her eyebrows raised.

The teen blinked. "Uh...yeah."

"I like cats," the other little girl said and smiled up at the two older females.

Scarlett and the woman looked at the girl in surprise and laughed together. "I'm Scarlett...Scarlett Hawkins."

The brunette held out her right hand. "Pam Garrett. My daughters, Amber and Vickie."

They shook hands.

Just then, the locker room door opened and six women and girls stepped out, fully dressed. A few had wet hair and the rest had their hair wrapped up in towels. A bored-looking woman dressed in a pantsuit and a clipboard in her left hand motioned at the next six in line. "Your turn."

Pam and her girls, Scarlett, Cheryl and Scott then stepped into the locker room and the door was shut behind them.

**oooooooooo**

Inside the locker room, all six sat on a bench that was set up in front of the lockers and removed their shoes.

Scarlett started to pull up on her shirt, as did Pam. Both stopped, however, when they saw the boy looking at them. They looked at Cheryl, but said nothing.

_-Do it! Do it! I want to see them!- _The boy's thoughts came out crystal clear to the teen and she blinked.

Then the mother's thoughts came out. _-You two shouldn't be so uptight. So what if he sees you naked? He may be a curious boy, but he's not a perv. The human body is nothing to be ashamed of, and he's seen me naked many times. He's nine. Get over it.-_

But, the blonde turned to her son and said, "Scott, I want you to sit in one of the toilet stalls while the rest of us take a shower. When we're done, I'll come get you and then you can wash up, O.K.?"

The boy looked at Pam, then Scarlett, then at his mother, all within two seconds. "Yes, Mom," he said. He left the locker room and went into the closest toilet stall.

When Scarlett heard the stall door being locked, she turned around and undressed. Pam did the same, then helped her daughters get ready to shower as well.

**oooooooooo**

The feeling of hot water hitting her back as she washed her face was uplifting. _This beats washing out of a sink any day_! Scarlett thought and sighed.

_-Yes! Yes! I can see everything!-_

The teen froze, then turned around to rinse off her face. She looked sideways through her water-blurred left eye towards the shower entrance.

The boy stood there, completely naked, and watched the females as they showered.

_-This is better than that time I saw the Playboy Channel at Craig's house! Both of them are beautiful - especially the redhead! She even looks like Craig's sister did when she was naked!-_

Scarlett debated yelling out, but sighed and held her protest still. _I'm not in the mood to get in a fight with the little moron's mom, _she thought. _She'd probably find some way to get me into trouble for 'attacking' her little 'angel'._

Not only that, the girl was also afraid of calling too much attention to herself and Roger. She remembered being unable to read George Williams' mind and her boyfriend's fear of him. Both of those concerns worried her. _What if they can sense what I can do? What if _they _know what I can do? What do we do then? What would happen to us?_

The teen turned around towards the entrance and made a show of wiping her eyes. Then she blinked her eyes twice.

The boy hid himself from her sight as she looked at the entrance.

_-Whew, that was close! She almost caught me!-_

"Oh, brother," Scarlett muttered and turned around to face the shower stream.

_-I wish I could pinch her boobies and kiss her.-_

The teen froze and gawked at the tile wall. _Eww!_

**oooooooooo**

The rest of the time in the showers and locker room went without incident, and the boy even got a couple of minutes in the showers himself, supervised by his mother.

As Scarlett sat and dried herself off, she debated telling Pam about being watched. She finally shook her head and finished up.

Five minutes later, all six were dressed again and left the locker room, so that the next six could wash up.

The teen left the others and headed towards the room she shared with Roger and Smokey.

_-That redhead will do just fine. She looks young enough to birth five or six young'uns.-_

Scarlett stopped and looked around quickly, but saw nobody looking at her. _That didn't make any sense_, she thought. _That wasn't that little doofus, so who thought that?_

She still saw nobody looking at her and reached the teacher's office. She knocked on the door and said, "It's me!"

Roger opened the door and she stepped inside. Then the door shut.

**oooooooooo**

An hour after Roger had his turn showering, the three refugees sat in their space, occupied by various time wasters. Smokey played with a small ball of frayed yarn, which Scarlett sent around the room as she read a paperback sci-fi novel titled _Ice and Iron_. Roger worked on a crossword puzzle, and consulted a paperback dictionary, confusion evident on his face.

_-Go, go, go! We've got to do this fast! Get as many as we can, and retreat back to the compound! Hurry!-_

_-Oh, I hope I get a pretty wife, like sixteen or seventeen years old. Someone who can get pregnant and give me a son!-_

Scarlett gasped as her face paled and Roger looked at her. "What?" he asked.

"Someone's outside the door," she said.

"I hear them," he said. "They're just going by, that's all."

"No!" The teen's protest startled him into silence. "They're going to try and force us to open the door!"

"Why?"

"It's a raid!" Scarlett shook as they stood up. "They've got dart guns and silenced pistols and they're after women!":

"Rapists!" Roger spat the word and frowned.

"No, not rapists!"

A muffled scream could be heard somewhere inside the school building.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"They're here for wives."

"What?"

She shuddered for a couple of seconds and said, "They want wives. It's like that old Roman legend we learned about in school. They don't have enough women."

A fist pounded on the door and both jumped; Smokey froze in terror and stared at the door. "Open up!" a loud male voice on the other side ordered them. "Security!"

"Put Smokey in the cat carrier," Roger whispered, "Then tell them to wait."

"Just a minute!" Scarlett called out as she secured the cat inside its carrier.

"Hurry up and open the door!" the voice ordered.

Roger pulled his pistol out, cocked it and held it ready and close to his right side. Somewhere else in the shelter, a voice cried out, "No! Don't sh-"

A faint sound of mechanical spitting reached their ears.

Scarlett readied her pistol as well and shivered as she looked at her lover. He gave her a brief smile and nodded.

"Open it," he whispered.

As she grabbed the doorknob, another spitting sound rang out, followed by a cry of pain. Somewhere, a male voice yelled out, "It's a raid! It's a-"

She opened the door, then jumped back as the door was then kicked open.

Two men in dark clothing stood there. One held a silenced pistol, while the other held a dart gun. The dart gun wielder automatically fired his dart at Scarlett, while the other man froze when he saw Roger's weapon aimed at him. He tried to lift his weapon in response.

Roger shot him directly in the chest, then turned and shot the other man in the belly. As both fell to the floor and the gut-shot man screamed, the cat wailed in her carrier.

_-I hate that sound! I hate it!- _The words sounded faraway in Scarlett's ears and she stumbled backwards to be stopped by the smooth and shiny tiled wall.

Roger turned to looked at his companion and gasped as she slid down the wall, unconscious, a dart stuck in her belly. With a grunt of anger, he plucked the dart out of her, felt for a pulse and sighed when he found it, then moved to the doorway to guard his charges. "Shut up!" he half-whispered to the wailing cat.

By then, the screaming man lost consciousness and laid still on the floor.

From somewhere down the hall and out of his sight, he could hear a woman's cry of pain as she was slapped. Then he heard a man as he said, "Quit fighting me, or you'll be whipped when you get to the compound, dammit!"

"You idiot!" a second man said. "Forgetting the tranq darts like that!"

"Shut up and help me tie her up and carry her!" the first man said.

Roger shook as he waited tensely. Normally, he would have rushed to the other woman's aid, but not while Scarlett was down and out. Finally, nearly a minute later, he saw a blond-haired woman being drug by her arms by two men. A stick of some sort had been rammed sideways into her mouth and her wrists were bound behind her back with nylon rope. Her nose bled from the right nostril and her upper lip was puffed out more than it should have been. Even with those injuries, she tried to fight the men, but they held her arms too firmly.

Then the two men saw the ones that Roger had shot and stopped. "Aw, shit, somebody shot Kyle and Randy!"

Both of the men and the woman looked up and saw Roger Taylor as he aimed his pistol at them in a two-hand hold.

"Oh, shit."

Before they could say or do anything else, the private detective shot the closest man in the forehead. The mortally wounded man fell and pulled the blonde down with him. The sudden weight on the other man's hands interferred with his attempt to grab his pistol.

Roger's next shot hit him in the right jaw and he let out a muffled cry as he fell and grabbed his face.

The woman struggled to free herself from the dead man's grasp, but couldn't free herself and her muffled cries combined with the second man's injured cries.

Roger moved and quickly kicked the injured man in the back of the head to silence him, then grabbed the blonde and pulled her towards the office.

A gunshot and the bullet grazed the woman's right arm; she screamed into her gag as she and her rescuer fell just inside the entrance.

Several bullets slammed into the wall near them. Roger shielded the injured woman as two men ran by towards the nearest exit; one of them shot at Roger, but missed.

Then there was a pistol shot behind them and one of the men fell. When the other turned to shoot at their unknown assailant, Roger shot him in the chest and he fell.

A tall, skinny man in his early twenties, with dark hair and a goatee stopped outside the office. He held a large revolver in his right hand as he looked around carefully and said, "Hey, man, you guys O.K.?"

Roger motioned to the injured blonde and towards his unconscious girlfriend. "Thanks for the help," he said to the taller man. "They knocked out my girl and shot this one."

"Someone tried to get my girlfriend as well," the skinny man said. He looked inside the office. "You mind if she and her daughters wait in here, too?"

Roger shook his head. "Not at all. Get 'em in here. I could use some help right now. Roger Taylor's my name."

The skinny man nodded. "Trent Lane. Hang on a sec." He turned around and motioned to someone behind him. "Pam! Hurry up!"

Pam Garrett and her two girls ran to the office and rushed inside.

"Thanks, man," Trent said as the two men stood on either side of the doorway.

Roger nodded shortly and looked back outside, his pistol ready. "Decent folks have to stick together," he said.

Pam worked to free the blonde from the rope as the two girls worked to get the gag out of her mouth. "Trent, this is that Cheryl woman I told you about," she said. "The one who brought her son to the showers this morning."

"Oh?" the younger man said. "Really?"

The brunette shook and stuck one of Scarlett's washcloths on the blonde's bleeding injury. "Where is he at then? What happened to him?"

"They beat him up!" Cheryl's gag was finally removed and she spoke then as she bawled. "Scotty tried to protect me and they beat him up and left him face down on the floor!"

The younger man blinked twice and nodded. "We'd better see if we can help him."

Roger nodded.

Trent turned to his girlfriend and said, "Pam, you stand guard and keep the door shut. We'll be back shortly."

Pam motioned towards Scarlett and asked, "What happened to her?"

Roger frowned and spat towards one of the dead raiders. "They shot her with a tranquilizer dart!"

The brunette checked the teen's pulse and sighed in relief. Then she looked at Cheryl and said, "Hold that on your arm."

The blonde looked at the two men. "Please, get my boy! He's all I have left!"

"We'll get him," Roger said. "You wait her for us."

Pam grabbed Trent and gave him a quick hug. "Be careful," she said and kissed his neck.

He smiled back and winked at her and the two men stepped out into the hallway.

She winked back, a pistol in her right hand. The woman huddled against the far wall, the two little girls and the unconscious teen near her and the cat still in her carrier.

Roger then shut the door and the two men moved down the hallway carefully, one on each side, their weapons ready in their hands.

Trent muttered, "What if they killed the boy? What do we tell her?"

"Don't think about that!" Roger's training as a policeman took over. "We rescue him and go from there."

Somewhere outside the building an automatic weapon fired and a couple of men cried out in pain.

They found the boy on the floor near another teacher's office. A small pool of blood had formed near his swollen nose and Roger growled in anger. "Real tough men, " he muttered as he felt the boy's neck for a pulse. "He's alive." Then he performed a brief exam of the child to make sure that he had no broken bone.

Suddenly several Marines appeared in the hallway from one of the gymnasium doors, all armed with automatic weapons. A sergeant yelled out, "Freeze!" as his men and women aimed their rifles at them.

Roger and Trent stopped and stayed still. The private detective said, "This boy's been hurt! His mother was also hurt and is in my quarters hiding."

"Just hold on there, mister," the sergeant said.

"They aren't dressed in dark, Sarge," one female Marine said as both men were disarmed.

"Yeah, I see that." He pointed at the floor. "You two just sit there while we secure this building." Then he turned to a man carrying a first-aid kit. "Doc, see what you can do here."

The corpsman nodded and knelt by the child as he began his exam.

Roger and Trent moved away from the boy, sat down and looked at each other. Two Marines stood by them, their weapons ready for use.

**oooooooooo**

The school building and the town itself was declared secure more than two hours later. Roger and Trent were released and given back their weapons after their statements were taken down by a young Navy clerk.

Trent took his "family" back to their space, while Cheryl was taken to her son and for treatment of her own injuries.

Scarlett had regained consciousness by then, but sat on the floor, groggy from the tranquilizer's after effects. "Oh, man," she said. "Did anyone get the number of the truck that hit me?"

Smokey was out of her cage and licked the girl's right hand as Roger sat beside her. "How are you holding up, Scarlett?"

She looked at her boyfriend and said, "I'll be O.K., I guess. I mean, I finally woke up to find you gone and those people from the shower with me. What exactly did I miss?"

Roger sighed and looked at her sadly. "A gunfight. From the looks of it, you were right. They _were_ after women."

Then the school's intercom system kicked in and the teen looked up at the speaker as George Williams addressed the Taylorsville community and refugees. "The raid that hit part of Taylorsville today was part of a small two-pronged effort by a survivalist group that came from southern Pennsylvania near Harrisburg. We _think _that their main goal in this raid was to take food and medical supplies.

"However, they had a secondary purpose. From what we've been able to find out from those we captured alive, they were also looking for women to take back to their compound. The women would have been married off to single members of the group, but also used as forced labor.

"They failed in their efforts, but we still lost twenty people and at least forty more suffered some sort of injuries. At this present moment, two companies of Marines are surrounding their compound. We are going to shut them down - permanently. Hopefully, if there are any women who have already been taken hostage, we'll rescue them as well.

"For those of you who took part in the defense of this refugee center - both military and civilian - your government thanks you. For the civilians who helped out, we will seek a way to thank you tangibly.

"Now is the time to remind everybody here that we are still under martial law, and will be for some time to come. The hand of justice is moving swiftly at this time. Some would even say mercilessly. But if you think that it's a good time to kill an enemy, or rape somebody, or even just beat up people because you're stressed out over your personal tragedy, then ask yourself two questions. Am I prepared to die by firing squad? Am I prepared to spend the rest of my days in chains while performing forced labor at a contaminated zone?

"If your answers to these questions is 'no', then don't break the law. A military tribunal is not as forgiving as a civilian court of law. We don't have the time, nor the patience for it now.

"The United States of America is not down and out. Several people here have had to learn that the hard way. The survivalist group is about to learn that for real.

"Despite the raid, we are still processing refugees for transport to unaffected areas. The schedules already set up will proceed on time, and those awaiting scheduling will not be delayed.

"Thank you for your patience and good day."

Scarlett heard the key going in the door and felt a brief tinge of panic until the door opened and Roger Taylor stood there.

They hugged quickly and the door shut behind them.

**oooooooooo**

Roger was already snoring as Scarlett turned and listened to the sounds of people occasionally moving down the hallway.

_How in the world can you sleep so easily after all that's happened? I'm still shaking!_

Smokey moved to the girl and rubbed up against the teen. "How can you be so calm?" she asked the cat.

_-It is simple. We are safe now. Do you not feel it?-_

She hugged the cat gently and released her. The feline moved towards her feet and the teen closed her eyes as she awaited sleep to take her.

(To be continued...)


End file.
